This weekend the wonderdog turned 14. Her brother, the gassy but loveable cat is now 10. Where does the time go? It seems like just yesterday that she was three months old and I was rushing her to the vet because she broke into a box of bacon snacks and ate her own Weight in treats when I wasn’t looking.
And how did the kittyman suddenly hit double digits?! I still remember holding him for the first time at the animal shelter and how very tiny he was. The little man fit in the palm of my hand and there was still plenty of room to spare. A young couple had brought him in to the shelter after finding him on the side of the freeway, wandering around all alone. The workers at the shelter estimated him to be around 7-8 weeks old.
The day I brought him home the wonderdog was furious, and how! When she finally got to the point that she wasn’t going to eat him she decided that at the very least he was a superfun hockey puck. We lived in a railroad style apartment at the time and I’d often look up only to find a tiny kitten howling and going sliding across the hardwood floors from room to room at high speed.
But two days after he came to live with us everything changed.
A violent thunderstorm loomed overhead and the lightening strikes were fast and furious. One particularly loud kaboom sent the baby kittyman into a nervous tizzy. Our young friend got so scared that he threw up AND soiled himself. But before I could even reach for a towel to clean him up the wonderdog uncharacteristically sat beside him and licked his head. Then she proceeded to clean his face and cuddle with him for almost an hour until the storm passed.
It might have been a really touching hallmark moment were it not for the puddle on the floor and the dog with vomit breath.
But anyway.
The experience began a lifelong bond and friendship filled with many years of playing marco polo, stealing my keys and absconding with the car, jumping low sidewalks in a single bound and storming the kitchen every year on Bastille day, waving baguettes.
So this year I decided to throw them a birthday bash to celebrate their furry lives and our time together.
Since it’s a holiday weekend too many people were busy or away so the wing ding will actually be a few weeks after their actual birthdays. Which is fine because that gives me ample time to plan a fun menu, whip up fab party favors and put together some gifts for the fur-enabled. It’ll be good fun.
Anyway.
In other news I have obtained a swell new job! And I start this week!
It seems like an excellent match so I’m a happy egg. What’s even better is that it offers full benefits! For the past three years I’ve worked as a contractor so I’ve had to pay my own. The fact that I’ll be saving a few hundred bucks a month is simply dreamy. Even better it’s fairly casual dress (just no jeans or shorts) so no more annoying “work” clothes.
All I need now is a fancypants lunchbox. Something sassy, yet swanky. Preferably insulated or plastic since there will be an ice pack in it. Suggestions?
Congrats on the new job! I could loan you my Emergency! lunchbox (ah, memories). It’s metal though, and probably a bit rusted by now.
Happy Birthday Fur Enabled! We over here at the Kitty household of Fandango wish you many more years of bonding and happiness!