Thanks for all your birthday wishes yesterday.
Over the weekend, we had my party. It was toned down from previous years, but I enjoyed it just fine. The theme was “Monsters, Cuddly Ones” and it turned out to mean a lot of people wearing Sesame Street and The Muppets clothing. I’m sure you’ll like knowing that Elmo was on a pair of red panties and Big Bird grinned from a speedo. All in all, though, it was a lot of t-shirts, a big hat covered in stuffed animals, and a couple hand-drawn images of Bert and Ernie in compromising positions. And you saw Thorny’s Cookie Monster cupcakes. He made 40 of them. ;-)
The title of this post, though, refers to just about the best gift I’ve ever received and Carter gave him to me.
Saturday morning, well before the party, Carter hauls us out on the road. Won’t say a word about where we’re going. We stop at the ATM for him to get some cash. I know the party’s that evening, so I’m thinking maybe a farmer’s market or something similar. Getting more supplies and those places usually only accept cash. Nope. Carter pulls up to PetSmart. He tells me we’re going to adopt whatever shelter cat I want, happy birthday.
That’s my boy over there. I named him Benedict after one of my other favorite gingers, and he’s already answering to it. When he feels like it. I get the feeling he knows his life’s going to be better now. He purrs all the time, head butts me, and will sit on my lap at every opportunity. He’s claimed every window, gotten hair on every surface, and yowls for his supper. A laser pointer and a shoelace are his favorite toys.
Did you know when they neuter a cat that they give them implants? I was not aware of this and thought maybe we’d have to get him fixed, but it turns out he’s got little marbles back there. Must be for self-esteem. He does spend an awful lot of time inspecting them.
During my birthday party, it was, like Thorny mentioned, practically a baby shower. Apparently, just about everyone knew I was getting a cat and I now have everything anyone could possibly need to care for one. Bowls, mats, beds, toys, treats, and boxes of cat litter. We’re stocked for a few months at least.
Last night, I heard my prosthesis fall over — I usually prop it against the wall. This morning, I woke to see Ben backed into the cup of it where my thigh goes. Apparently, in addition to most of my pillow and the bed beyond our feet, my leg’s now his too.
It was a very good birthday. :-)