I never meant to keep this stupid cat. Who wants a 17 lb. black tomcat? I agreed to foster him because he’d been abandoned in an apartment. The neighbors said his owner went to jail, and the people who cleaned out the apartment left the cat, with food and water for a few days. One of the neighbors called Forgotten Felines. I was looking for a young, sweet female cat. Instead I agreed to foster this thug, because the Forgotten Felines person didn’t have room for him. And because I am a sap.
And you know what? After he was neutered, he was still a thug, but less aggressive, which was a plus. And over time, he learned to vocalize a lot of different things, and purr a lot, and play like a kitten. And when I was sick, he licked my face. And when it was cold, he slept on my feet.
So now, he’s my thug. I admit, he’s up to 22 lbs. now, and on a diet, which he doesn’t seem to mind too much. If he were a person, he’d have tattoos up his arm. But I think he’d be like Jason on “My Cat From Hell”–looks fearsome, and is actually a pussycat.
writinghersense 