One of the many things me and my wife have in common is our love of cat's. From the time we were kid's we both alway's had at least one cat whom we loved and cherished. When we first met. Neither one of us had a cat, but we both wanted one. So when we got our first apartment we wanted to be sure that we would be able to have a little friend of the feline world.
Before we got a cat, though, my wife said, " You know what's more fun then a cat?"
" What?" I asked.
" Two cats," she replied.
That sounded good too me. (I told you we were both cat people, didn't I?) It happened that my son new someone who's cat had kittens. We got ourselves right over their to pick out two new members of our family. We picked out two cute little kittens, one of them was yellow and the other was a Maine Coon Cat. Next we had to name them, we thought of classic names. Tristan and Isolde from the opera, Caesar and Cleopatra from history, Romeo and Juliet from literature. Nothing seemed to be quite right, though. We finally named them after my grandparents, Eli and Betsy. My mother and my brother thought the names were cute but, my cousins thought the names were disrespectful to our grandparents.
Anyway, Eli and Betsy it was. When the cats grew up Eli showed a fondness for sitting on my lap, while Betsy was pretty much her own person (cat, that is). She was one of those very independent type cats. Eli was my cat but, Betsy wasn't anyones cat. My wife use to talk to the two cat's. (Cat people tend to be a little strange.) She would tell the cat's, if they didn't straighten out, we would get another cat who would become her own special cat.
You can say anything you want to a cat, but they alway's do what they want anyway. Eli and Betsey, true to typical cat fashion, didn't pay any attention to my wife, so she followed through with her threat, and we added another cat to our family. The new member was a cute little white and yellow kitten who got into all kinds of things that he wasn't suppose to get into. Since he was such a little Dicken's, we named him Dicken's. Dicken's wasn't any different then the other cat's. He adopted me as his human. Perhaps you can see where this is going. Why we ended up with a houseful of cats and why we always have cat hair on our dark clothes.
Other cat's came into our household. Some to stay for a long time. Others to visit briefly. There was; for example, Houdini, the escape artist, and finally little Max and his sister Daisy, they were orphans, poor little things. Who could have resisted them or left them to face the world on their own? Not us. We are cat people, after all. One sure thing about a cat person is that they are all at least a little strange.