Nibbles McGhee
It seems that I only post in here when I have something crappy going on, so why disappoint my minuscule audience.
One of our cats died, as some of you may know by now. He went through this world with a few names, lately. We knew him as Mephisto, Nibbles McGhee, Horrible Cat Siren, Pheesties and River Mephisto.
We found him living in a litter box at our local pet shelter a day after Thanksgiving and decided to bring him and his little kitten roommate home. We had to search Cork for a pet carrier and finally settled on a box from a printing company with holes jabbed through for air. A few scratches and a taxi ride later, he started his life in our humble abode.
He delighted us for months with his record breaking pissing feats, diamond hard danglers and his glass shattering horrible cat siren. He also warmed our laps perfectly and let us feel important as he buried his head in any available crevice, purring out appreciative songs of love as he counted the strokes and chin scratches.
He was fond of corners. When not allowed on us, he spent his hours standing in a corner, dreaming of laps. His buddy, Squeaks Mageeks, often tried to lure him out by rubbing on him, squeaking at him and occasionally lying next to him, giving him playful swats. This usually just resulted in a horrible cat siren, but sometimes she would succeed and drive him into a cabinet, or behind the washer.
For quite a while, his favorite sleeping spot was our keyboard. I still see a few of his hairs sticking up now. One from the depths of the return button. Fitting.
His last couple of days, he would fall asleep in the litter box. We first discovered him in one and he was determined to part in one as well it seemed. I'm not sure why he chose that as his comfort area, but I couldn't stand the idea of him dying in crap, so I had to put it in the other room. We had a nice little box with some of our clothes inside, for him to die in, but he had different plans.
A few nights ago, after days of him not moving about, he jumped on the couch with us and spent time on each of our laps, burying his head and enjoying those rubs and scratches that we hoped had magical curing powers. The next morning I came into the living room and found him taking his final rest on a painting of a rose, painted by my love. It had fallen the night before from the wall and our big guy found it the perfect place to leave us.
Goodbye ole Nibbles McGhee.
He would have loved this video. It has been a while since I've seen the water skiing squirrel, so this will have to do until I get back to the US.
One of our cats died, as some of you may know by now. He went through this world with a few names, lately. We knew him as Mephisto, Nibbles McGhee, Horrible Cat Siren, Pheesties and River Mephisto.
We found him living in a litter box at our local pet shelter a day after Thanksgiving and decided to bring him and his little kitten roommate home. We had to search Cork for a pet carrier and finally settled on a box from a printing company with holes jabbed through for air. A few scratches and a taxi ride later, he started his life in our humble abode.
He delighted us for months with his record breaking pissing feats, diamond hard danglers and his glass shattering horrible cat siren. He also warmed our laps perfectly and let us feel important as he buried his head in any available crevice, purring out appreciative songs of love as he counted the strokes and chin scratches.
He was fond of corners. When not allowed on us, he spent his hours standing in a corner, dreaming of laps. His buddy, Squeaks Mageeks, often tried to lure him out by rubbing on him, squeaking at him and occasionally lying next to him, giving him playful swats. This usually just resulted in a horrible cat siren, but sometimes she would succeed and drive him into a cabinet, or behind the washer.
For quite a while, his favorite sleeping spot was our keyboard. I still see a few of his hairs sticking up now. One from the depths of the return button. Fitting.
His last couple of days, he would fall asleep in the litter box. We first discovered him in one and he was determined to part in one as well it seemed. I'm not sure why he chose that as his comfort area, but I couldn't stand the idea of him dying in crap, so I had to put it in the other room. We had a nice little box with some of our clothes inside, for him to die in, but he had different plans.
A few nights ago, after days of him not moving about, he jumped on the couch with us and spent time on each of our laps, burying his head and enjoying those rubs and scratches that we hoped had magical curing powers. The next morning I came into the living room and found him taking his final rest on a painting of a rose, painted by my love. It had fallen the night before from the wall and our big guy found it the perfect place to leave us.
Goodbye ole Nibbles McGhee.
He would have loved this video. It has been a while since I've seen the water skiing squirrel, so this will have to do until I get back to the US.
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