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I think the proper amount of time has gone by to pay my late cat Max respect, so now I'll tell you about the new addition to our family:

About 4 days before Max died, we "acquired" Freddie, a little kitty. I say "acquired" because it was more like me screeching at our friend Paul to go back to the park to save the little kitty he had seen clinging to a tire in the rain. I guess I sufficiently guilted, because Paul semi-obediantly retrieved said kitty. When he brought the kitty to the bookstore, I thought he was dead (the kitty, not Paul). He could barely hold his head up and we could barely feel his heart beating. After we dried him off, he still looked very, very sad and we weren't sure he was going to make it.


My plan was to nurse him back to health and then to find him a good, loving home.

*ahem*

Just for the record, that plan NEVER works for animal lovers. So, OF COURSE, we couldn't get rid of him and he's, shall we say, gotten quite comfortable at our house. Fast forward 3 months:

Freddie (what we named him, correction, what I named him and will never hear the end of...), has become Ninja Cocaine Kitty. I swear, this is the fastest cat I've ever seen. I often hear Hannah (Max's "sister" and our other 13 year old cat) crying out in complete pain and agony as Freddie Ninja-flings himself across the room and attaches his tiny, chiclet-like Ninja kitty teeth into any part of Hannah's body that he can reach in some kitty cocaine-induced frenzy.
It hurts.
It hurts REALLY BAD.

The reason I know this? Is because throughout the morning and evening, Freddie will Cocaine-Kitty-Ninja-fling-attach himself to my arm.

It's TERRIFYING. This is a picture of him running at me:

(OK, really, that's the Zuni Fetish Doll from the 70's-era Trilogy of Terror. But I SWEAR Freddie looks JUST LIKE THAT while he's lunging at me...)

(WHAT?!?!? You've NEVER SEEN nor HEARD OF Trilogy of Terror. *tsk*tsk* For shame... I think I saw it at the drive-in when I was 6. Which would explain a great deal of why I'm like this now...but, I digress...)

To make it worse? Freddie NEVER cocaine-kitty-Ninja-flings himself at Todd. It must have something to do with that secret testosterone hand shake.

So, anyway...we got a new cat...



Next Time: How Freddie tries to nurse on me...