ThanQue! Such things can be arranged! ( lots of stuff 'roun here, sumone sumday will like) prolly after ai'm ded. Sniffle. It's moandae. :D I'll see bout mail, I gets fraid of somethins. I figure stuf I use as avatars, I've plenty o witnesses. An still own'em. Pc
Ok . I'll try too make it entertaining... It's a short story about "cinnamon" Teddy Lee "cat scratch fever" Nugent, my spokescat. He passed way too early, car broke down, walked 8 +miles in flip-flops, tiny coast town, pacific city(p.c.) he slipped out the door as i got there, always ALWAYS came when I called him. 1 car. 1:00 pm. 20 mph road. You know the rest. ANYWAY. At that tiny little cabin Ted, Max (cats) n me lived. 2other cabins along side, restaurant/bar next door. My neighbors on end cabin have a Chihuahua (sp?) "ruby" cool tiny dog that played w Ted, about 1 third his size. They had fun! Big dairy pasture right behind our little houses, a Bengal kitteh that played with Ted a lot! They would hunt BIG pocket gophers and bring back their treasures to offer us humans as gifts. Alive. No thank you, Ted, but how nice you are to bring me a prezzie! Well. One day he caught an exceptionally big one, had to drag it, squeaking and snapping, between his legs. Now, Ted himself was about 2 1/2 years old and around 15+ lbs. without an ounce of fat. I was working on my parking spot, brought some cool beach roks n a few little plants to make a tiny garden. It was looking pretty good! But now, here's Ted, huge mad gopher in tow, Ruby the little dog spots that gopher and wants it. Of course, it was keep-a-way frum MY gopher after offering it to me. For hours. I tried to put the poor ol gopher out of his misery, but Ted was busy playing hide n seek from Ruby, chasing gopher across the drive way. ( gophers are fast and tough!) so I'm raking gravel, the poor rodent had had enough. So Ted, with his good manners and grace, drags it to me again, Ruby, with a few swat marks, still wants it. So Teddy Lee sits down a foot from me, proceeds to crunch off the top off its skull, eat the brains, dawg is barkin, I'm about barfing, then he pukes them back up. I'm actually gagging and laughing at the same time, tring to get it all buried, as I had the shovel in hand. Got a hole dug, after much argument with Ted, who's trying to get it back. Whew. It's buried. Sooo he digs it back up when I turned my back and is, yis, eating it AGIN! Barfs it, I dug a WAY deeper grave then,with ROKS on top and he's trying to dig it up. Agin. That cat has many stories in his too short life. I loved him. He was too smart fur his britches, a fisherman, loved water, loved his companions, bossed our St. Bernard at 6 wks old. The dog always guarded me n cats, sometimes had to hold Ted in his mouth.