I rescued a cat on October 17th, 2000. He was family to me. I lost him tragically this year and I am still heartbroken. We spent countless hours together watching sports on TV and on the porch watching the world go by with him sitting in my lap. JJ this strip is dedicated to you. Thanks Jae for your great drawing.
Please click the link on the Twitter feed to see this great comic strip
We have two pets, a cat who I rescued from a scrap yard in arguably the worst part of Houston and a miniature schnauzer who showed up on my wife’s back porch when she lived out in the country. Both of these animals survived very precarious and dangerous environments. JJ, my cat, lived in a place where the rats weighed twice as much as he did when I rescued him and Emily was living in a place where the red hawks and owls were big enough to pick her up and carry her away. They both got very lucky. And they both are very appreciative and affectionate. However, due to my inability to not spoil my kids, both have a sense of entitlement that rivals my daughter’s.
When I adopted JJ, he was about six months old and he was a bold little kitty. He would hang around the table when the guys at the scrap yard would eat lunch and beg for scraps. He figured it out pretty fast. I like cats. They are very easy to take care of. I like that they offer friendship on a conditional basis unlike most dogs. And, of course, when you are talking to your pet, you aren’t talking to yourself. (See Talking To Myself http://wp.me/P3qhXb-2U).
We had a brief conversation about his coming to live with me. I asked him if wanted to stay down in the ghetto and struggle to survive in a very dangerous place where there were predators who would love make a meal out of him or did he want to come home with me and become a Jewish cat living a life of luxury and comfort and never worry about where his next meal was coming from ever again. He looked up at me, smiled, and said, “So, vat are we still doing here? Vat are you waiting for? Tisha B’Av?” And that was that. Now he sits in my lap when he wants a good massage, knows that he is a distant cousin to a tiger, specifically a Clemson Tiger, and has been a good buddy for thirteen years. He has even adjusted to living with a meshugeneh dog. He will sometimes come along with us for a walk which is pretty cool.
But that sense of entitlement, that is something and it led to this:
Despite massages that are inspired,
My cat told me I could be fired.
I’m taking it rough.
My lap’s not good enough…
Now a pillow is required!