Psycho

The striped kitty was a birthday present to my grandson. The cat's name evolved with the cat - PSYCHO. The kitty was adopted out of a garage. Fitting. This is a garage cat, i.e., no class. But a little boy's love know's no bounds, so Psycho stays, and stays, and stays. I do have to give him credit - he is a beauty. Shiny. Goldie eyes. Now big. But crazy. Neighbor called the cat police and Psycho disappeared from Neighbor's life and ours for a week. He was bailed out, with his friend, Ivan, sick, and cost a lot of mony to totally rehab back to healthy young (neutered) male cats.

When Psycho and Ivan returned, they killed a rat, probably from our garage as Neighbor keeps a VERY tidy garage. As a result, Neighbor decided maybe cats weren't as evil as they seem. My daughter who put up the bail money the first time has decided, no more bail. Oddly enough, it was Psycho who understood and reformed. Ivan disappeared again, never to return.

Now, if you are thinking, "how cruel to let the animals outside" - you do not understand these two. They would, in the most crafty manner, hide and wait for a door to open. They would slink out if it was dark and we would never know. Cats slink, you know. If it was daylight, both at the same time would shoot from out of nowhere into the backs of our knees. Once our balance was regained or we picked ourselves up from the floor, the cats were long gone and no amount of chasing could catch them; gone, only to return when they were hungry or needed to potty.

Now, the potty is what REALLY makes Chuck mad! He completely does not understand cats, (or, at first, particularly like them) although after living with four for several years, he is getting it. He, and rightfully so, does not understand why cats come inside to poop. Now, come to think of it, I don't either. But, neighbor is very glad that they do. End of Psycho story.