Today, I survived swim lesson numero dos. I was able to put my face in the water and blow water out my nose; yippy! I am just a step away from the 2012 Olympics; no joke! Just you wait; you'll see me swimming the freestyle next to Phelps. He ain't got nothin' on me, baby! Well, except over a foot of height. I got my eye on the gold!
Well, as many of you know I have an "outdoor" family. This family consists of Shock and Awe, Momma Cat (AKA: WMD), Skillet Head, Saturn and Neptune. Well, over the weekend, I made a new friend; Barron. Barron is a mature adult, salt and pepper kitty (NOTE: His fur at one time was all black, but since he has entered his December days, he is "salted" with a lovely shade of gray). Now, I did not name Barron, Barron; it said it on his red heart tag. In addition to his name, was his address and phone number (NOTE: Not really his phone number, but his family's number. Cats cannot use phones; they do not have thumbs to hold the phone).
Well, Barron's home is about 1/2 a block from my casa. So, I enjoyed Barron's company as I put out the food for my "outdoor family" (NOTE: Carl-E says I am guilty of Cat-o-gamy; this is the practice of having more than one cat family and should be thankful that I have not been arrested), and went about my way. The next day, who greets me but my friend Barron. We repeated the same routine as the previous day. On Monday, guess who runs up to me? No, not George Clooney pledging his undying love for me and offering me all the LV's I could stand (NOTE: George has nothing on my Carl-E!), but Barron. Now, I am thinking that Barron's family is neglecting him. So, in my mind he is going to join my family, because I'll treat him like the little king he is. This is not kidnapping, because I am not chaining him to my fence, but if he wants to hang around my house; there is no problem.
Well, my neighbors came home from dinner Monday night. It was pouring out, and they were running to their door. Guess who ran in behind them? A VERY wet Barron. After drying him off, they let him back out. The following morning, my neighbor goes to get his paper, and guess who greets him! Well, my neighbor decided to call the number on his collar. Barron's mommy answered as she was leaving the Humane Society, because she was looking for Barron!
From his neglectful mother, my neighbor found out that Barron is 17 years young, and he sometimes gets confused when he goes outside; poor kitty (NOTE: His uncaring mommy is real lucky that I do not call "Family and Cat" services on her ass!) After not seeing him for a few days, she became worried. WELL DUH! If your kids were missing for a few days would you wait to report them gone; NO! You probably would want them home to continue working in the secret sweat shop you have in your basement making knock-off handbags! Your mature adult cat who has a remembering problem and no thumbs to call home when he is lost, should not be outside. He should be inside eating Fancy Feast, munching on cat nip, while being brushed and scratched behind the ears.
Barron is now home. I wanted to write her a letter about her poor parenting skills, suggest she should take a class at the local community college with all the other dead-beat parents about being a responsible kitty's mama in today's society, and that I would beat her like a red-headed step-child if I found out that Barron was lost again. However, Carl-E told me that I already have too many haters in the neighborohood. I decided that I will keep an eye out for my furry friend, and if I see him remind him that he can always live at my house and I'll give him the love that he deserves.
And, I am off to clean my pond!
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