Just spent a wonderful morning with my twin. I had to wait for my brother to bring me cigarets so I had spent most of the morning with my twin. He really is a good photographer. Most of the shots are of clouds that resemble something with a beautiful sunset. I looked at some other photos and he gave me a picture of my dad and I. It is when we were picking up my Nana (age 91) last year. It has a nice American flag in the background. I wish I could upload the picture. I at least have an old picture of my previous cat named Margarita. She was such a cute mix. I thought I would add the kaleidoscope feature but it does make the picture look a little crazy; it must have been taken over 3 years ago. It felt like only yesterday. Isn't that weird how pictures can bring back the past and even I can remember the smells and other senses from just looking at the picture. No, it's not kitty litter smell it's just the smell of a nicely cleaned home.
Margarita was such a domesticated and civilized cat compared to my cat now. My cat now is feral and I have to be on guard 24-7. He's like a tiger or lion...never know when he will snap. I know because I can read him pretty well after taking care of him for over 5 years. He is a handful yet I love him. I could never let him go because I know the next owner wouldn't put up with his feral ways. My parents think I should just let him go in their backyard and he'll be in heaven. I disagree because I have tried to domesticate him for years and now he may be overwhelmed out in the wilderness. Maximus Jameson is such a good name for him. He should wield a sword or something like a Greek god. He thinks he's god or the king of this house and I have been beginning to agree with him. I have to scoop his poop like a slave for him lol. Max has attacked me before when I went to lie down. That time was scary because I read him completely wrong one night. He was in play mode and I thought he was winding down and all of sudden he attacked my head while I was trying to sleep. He gashed my nose and scratched me to the point of maybe stitches. It was close to my eye but thankfully he backs down if I say NO NO. I've since recovered and I have a nasty scar but that was the only time I questioned his sanity. It's not him who was crazy it was me who played with him in his cat tunnel and bird toy then forgot and laid down. He has been nothing but good since then. I know when he's playing and he knows when I'm sleeping. He just joined me recently in a nap and laid on top of my chest snuggling and wiping his scent all over my nose and ear. His purr was calming.
They say cats are therapeutic and I agree. He gives me a sense of calm throughout the day. A companion who showers and maintains himself better than any dog would. I don't have to take him for walks, I don't have to shower him and I don't have to pick up his shit from the side of the road (it conveniently is all in one spot: the litter box.) He is a pain in the ass but he is pure bliss when he has been fed and pet. I hope everyone who has a cat and it's feral I can feel your pain. I understand that you love your cat and that you and only you can be trusted (you are the one who feeds him/her).
Another thing is it's not safe to really roam around the house without socks or pants. He literally thinks its playtime if I am walking around bare-legged. But if I have shoes on he knows better then to attack. He hasn't attacked my legs in a very long time, but I remember he attacked my ex-wife's legs like it was Christmas. Poor thing didn't know when to stop. The one thing I liked about my ex-wife was that she was willing to take him home with her to Ft. Lauderdale and to have him stay with her parents while I was on deployment. Yes, he did send my mother in law to the hospital and they also blame Max for the death of their other cat (she was severely depressed and had intense anxiety and they had to put her down).I think that is what happened but at least their other cat had no problem with Max. There were two kings in that household for a couple months. Max survived and now he's safe home with me in Sanford Florida.
I've been slacking on his litter box and I will be doing that chore daily. It's very important to be resilient in the task of scooping cat shit. If it's not clean, the cats paws arent clean and if the cats paws arent clean the kitchen counter top is not clean. See where i'm going with this? So I am more deligent in the task, even though I hate it; it has to be done.
Enough about cats, let's talk about how I just got a new book in the mail. NYPD RED 2. I opened the book and the words look so large compared to the fireman by Joe Hill. Once I finish Joe Hills book I will start James Patterson's NYPD Red series. Im excited. Let me know what you think of this post. I'm eager for feedback.
Max says hi and thanks for listening to the cat stories...LOL.
They say cats are therapeutic and I agree. He gives me a sense of calm throughout the day. A companion who showers and maintains himself better than any dog would. I don't have to take him for walks, I don't have to shower him and I don't have to pick up his shit from the side of the road (it conveniently is all in one spot: the litter box.) He is a pain in the ass but he is pure bliss when he has been fed and pet. I hope everyone who has a cat and it's feral I can feel your pain. I understand that you love your cat and that you and only you can be trusted (you are the one who feeds him/her).
Another thing is it's not safe to really roam around the house without socks or pants. He literally thinks its playtime if I am walking around bare-legged. But if I have shoes on he knows better then to attack. He hasn't attacked my legs in a very long time, but I remember he attacked my ex-wife's legs like it was Christmas. Poor thing didn't know when to stop. The one thing I liked about my ex-wife was that she was willing to take him home with her to Ft. Lauderdale and to have him stay with her parents while I was on deployment. Yes, he did send my mother in law to the hospital and they also blame Max for the death of their other cat (she was severely depressed and had intense anxiety and they had to put her down).I think that is what happened but at least their other cat had no problem with Max. There were two kings in that household for a couple months. Max survived and now he's safe home with me in Sanford Florida.
I've been slacking on his litter box and I will be doing that chore daily. It's very important to be resilient in the task of scooping cat shit. If it's not clean, the cats paws arent clean and if the cats paws arent clean the kitchen counter top is not clean. See where i'm going with this? So I am more deligent in the task, even though I hate it; it has to be done.
Enough about cats, let's talk about how I just got a new book in the mail. NYPD RED 2. I opened the book and the words look so large compared to the fireman by Joe Hill. Once I finish Joe Hills book I will start James Patterson's NYPD Red series. Im excited. Let me know what you think of this post. I'm eager for feedback.
Max says hi and thanks for listening to the cat stories...LOL.
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