The Whole Kitten Caboodle

The hardest thing about my recent divorce was leaving behind the kitties. We have seven, and I could only take two with me, as per the apartment lease provisions. I had to determine which two would be the most compatible and least affected by the move. I chose the last two we added to the household, Ringo and Toby.

Ringo was grown when we got him. His owner was elderly, had a stroke, and was placed in a nursing home. The son-in-law is the guy my ex buys his bulk cat litter (floor dry) from. He knew we had other cats and asked if we could take in this big orange neutered male. He didn't even know what the cat's name was, so we had free reign at what to call him. He has a wonderful thick tail with distinct rings on it, so he became Ringo. It would have been easy to call him Morris, because he looks just like the cat food commercial cat. He is a love, very easy-going, and likes Toby a lot.

Toby was dropped off in the neighborhood of my ex's workplace when he was barely weaned. I could hold him in one hand he was so tiny. Dan (the ex) called me and told me to bring the cat carrier to work because he thought this kitten was adorable. That made seven cats...I was really getting where I felt like I had too many with six. Toby would be a curtain climber if we had not declawed him at a very young age, and he still has no idea he isn't supposed to climb. He literally runs up the walls on the door frame of my bedroom, sometimes reaching almost 5 feet off the floor, and sliding down like a fireman on the brass pole. I wish I had it on video. It's a riot. Toby gets called "Toby-wan Kenobi" on occasion when he looks too serious, and he has an orange fish that he likes to drag into bed for me to toss and him to fetch.

The two of them together keep me in good company and a good humour.