Cat Lady

I probably have mentioned that I have a cat.

This is him. His name is Bing. Right now, he’s sitting on the back of the couch beside me, purring away. He’s spent most of the afternoon on or beside my leg [1. I was home sick this afternoon. ] I’ve had him for three years now, having adopted him from a friend. It’s a long story as to how he and I came to be together, but it involves allergies and a broken toaster oven. He’s an old man, having turned 17 earlier this year, and he’s in surprisingly good shape for a cat his age. I took him to the vet a few weeks ago, and other than some arthritis and teeth issues, which is to be expected, he’s healthy. Except now he’s on some prescription food and it smells like canned ham that’s gone horribly, horribly bad. And he’s not interested in it.

Bing has his adorable qualities. Like, every night, he crawls under the blankets with me and snuggles up, at least for a little while. And he’s got a toy fish that he plays with all the time [2. At least, until he looses it under the stove. ] which I refer to as his “binky.”

Although, he also has his annoying moments, like his very persistent meowing at 6:30am every morning. Also, his new trick of jumping on my nightstand, jumping on the bed and walking over my head. Usually while I’m sleeping. I think you can understand why I don’t find this new trick amusing.

On the whole, however, he’s a keeper.