Creepy Kitty

My baby boy

As I sit here late tonight waiting for that soft drowsiness to take over and the desire to drag myself to bed kick in…my favorite creepy Kitty is slamming his head against my arm  in search of Momma’s affection. Sweet sweet boy. Mac. Which is short for Mac Truck. I am joking but he is rather large. A big bulky tomcat weighing in at about 15 lbs. I know cats get larger, but Mac is a presence because he is long and tall and coal black from the pads of his feet to the insides of his ears. Think lumberjack-size kitty.

And the silly thing is when we brought him home almost 5 years ago from the local Humane Society he was a wee little maniac tearing around his new home. Exhausted, he would sack out about every 2 hours on the sofa and you could see faint black on black tiger stripes across his little, scrawny body. A few months later, we brought home a sister, BeBe (well I did anyways-but Seth fell in love so what’s the harm)….and the two grew and grew and grew. Grew together and grew bigger.

BeBe (left) and Mac sharing the radiator-a rare moment

Seth with fish oven glove he got for Christmas

Now something no one knows about the family dynamics around here…I am very very small and my husband is very very tall. I am four foot eleven inches and a half. And that half inch matters when you are this small. My husband, who comes from a family of English/Scandinavian Amazons, is six foot five inches and even taller with his shoes on. So with the giant husband in the house I say the kitties follow after him in size and I am still the smallest one around comparatively. I had someone come to the door and ever-friendly BeBe pops out around the corner and the visitor actually said “whoa”.  I told him that was the small one. And I told him we grow things big around here…then in comes my giant husband.

So-back to the Creepy Kitty that keeps messing up my typing by loving the side of my netbook and slamming his head into my left hand.  We call him Creepy because he seems to have a slight anxiety problem. We have no idea where this came from and we got him at 8 weeks old.  It didn’t seem that apparent until he got older. Everything freaks him out.  A magazine on the floor, the train passing outside, the telephone, ANY person other than Seth or myself, the mailbox slamming shut, new house decorations, a plastic bag and don’t even get me started about the closed pantry door that he will bunch up in front of just staring at it for hours…you get the picture. He sees dead people.  He creeps around all the time inspecting everything and periodically jumping and hiding under the dining room table. I keep saying that if he had pants…he surely would have crapped them.

He is my big Lovebug…he prefers me over everyone. He worries when I leave the house, when I cry at a movie, when I am in bed sick-he’s there. He brings me a stuffed mouse when he thinks I need a bite to eat. And when Seth goes to bed…he comes over and demands a rub for a bit. When I go to bed he sits at the bottom of the stairs and cries for about 10 minutes as if to say “Momma? Are you still there?”.

We also call him Fancy Pants because when he runs he looks like his pants are falling down…he is swishy. What’s not to love about this sweet guy?

The vet actually suggested that we try to give him Kitty Zoloft….I looked at the vet and said, “really?….it’s not like he has to go get a job or something.” I think he can manage since the only thing we require of him is that he not throw up on the carpet. :o)


1 Comment

  1. Gina said,

    January 21, 2011 at 6:34 am

    Funny post! Cats definitely have personality.

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