Cats redux

     We could not find an owner of the little gray tabby that Dave rescued from certain death by winter.  Dave, who is NOT a cat fancier, has taken a fancy to the little fella, and seemed downright pleased when I announced I was keeping him (the cat, people, the cat…. Jeez!)  He has named him Hobbes.  (Does that make David Calvin???)
     I took Hobbes to the vet right after Christmas, where he was pronounced a keeper and given all of his shots, was de-wormed, and treated for ear mites.  Are cats BORN with ear mites?  Does anyone know?  Because every cat I have been owned by- and Hobbes makes #15- has had them.
     Hobbes fits right in.  He easily learned to use the cat-door and the litter box, he knows where the food is, and he knows how to torment the living hell out of Patches.  He chases her relentlessly, and she is too dumb to realize that she is three times his size and could defeat him just by sitting on him.  Squashed kitten.  He’d be a grease mark on her butt.  Butt no, she tears through the house, wailing, howling, hissing, with Hobbes hot on her heels, the both of them knocking things over and making a mess.  It’s good to have a kitten in the house.
     Hobbes seems genuinely fond of David.  He curls up at his side while he is working at his desk, or wraps himself around Dave’s shoulders and purrs in his ears.  David, for his part, seems equally enamored of Hobbes.  Maybe you just can’t help but bond with something you have rescued and is grateful for it.  
     Hobbes loves Mama and I as well, but for different reasons.  He seems to love the way I taste, and he seems to love the wonderful, loud and piercing noises Mama makes when he rakes her feet with his claws- which, by the way, he can kiss good-bye (as well as his kitty balls) on January 23.  All responsible pet owners should neuter their pets, so no lamenting his lost reproductive potential, please.  And for those of you who are philosophically opposed to de-clawing, I will only remind you that I recently buried a beloved cat friend who died at the age of 18.5 years- and lived to be that age because she was de-clawed and was an indoor cat.  May Hobbes (and Patches) both exceed that record.  Amen.
     Must go now, and retrieve my great toe.  Kitty teeth are brutal.