January 01, 2012

The Squeaky Gift



Were it not for her shedding, Squeaker may very well be the worlds most perfect cat. She really only likes the family, but there's not an aggressive bone in her body. The kids can manhandle her and she does nothing about it, but she will vacate the area when she's done with them. She tolerates the dogs until she doesn't,and then it's a well timed puff and hiss to get them under control. She sleeps on my feet and knows better than to get near the head of the bed at any time. She uses the auto litter box in the garage that Matt has rigged into a contraption of such magnificence that I only need to deal with poo issues once a month or less. She reminds me to fill the dog/cat water bowl by hunting me down and squeaking at me till it's full ( she is so aptly named, she literally does squeak and not meow.)She races me to the top of the stairs to demand a once daily belly scratch, aggressive rubbing please. She only comes down stairs if you've earned her time but when she does, she's just damn cute about it. She gifted us with her presence nearly every night since Christmas, and her chosen sleep spot made absolutely no sense but was the most adorable thing EVER, so I forgive her the pounds and pounds and pounds of cat hair she leaves all over my home.

I am NOT a cat person. But our Squeak is just my kind of kitty.
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