Thursday, March 14, 2013

cats and boxes...

Tux (left) and Jack (right) sharing new box

When the postman makes a delivery to our house, the cats are waiting anxiously... for the box. They definitely believe that each delivery is a gift for them. This last box contained our k-cups for our Keurig coffee maker. They totally ignore the contents and can't wait for us to empty it and deliver to them their new cardboard abode.  It seems that the first one in has *dibs*... but Jack is always willing to share.  At the moment, they now have 4 boxes in various areas around the house. People who don't have cats probably wouldn't understand, but those who do... do.


Molly is 19 years old.  She spends a lot of time sleeping on the sofa or in her bed these days.  But she still eats well, uses her litter box fastidiously, and gets around pretty well. She lost her buddy, 19 year old Thibbadeaux , not that long ago. She and Thibs came to us as kittens at about the same time. Thibs came to us from our oldest son's cat's litter (who gave birth under the upstairs desk in our house) and Molly was found outside an apartment building by our youngest son (and promptly dumped at mom and dad's house when we weren't home).  And you wonder why we have 6 cats? 

Be that as it may, the two of them were fast buddies and have lived their whole lives together.  Molly has put up with all the other cats and kittens that have come into the house over the years... sometimes grudgingly, but never mean. She does hiss at the outside cats and raccoons when they gather by the back door - as if to say, "there's no room in here! Go away!" But all in all, she's been a good loving cat.  I expect we'll have her around for a few more years unless something unforseen happens.  I believe I read somewhere that 19 is equivalent to about 93.

From left: Ghost, Jack, Rose, Julie, and Tux
Julie drinking from faucet in bar

Ghost cuddling with toy bird

Jack and Tux sacked out by fireplace