Cat Shy

The Tale of Bonkers and Cassius the Casanova

It's official.

I am one Cat Shy, of becoming that "Crazy Cat Woman" who lives on the corner.

Those who are acquainted with me, know that I am rather fond of the feline species. They are marvelously self-sufficient, have no desire for constant 'walkies' (as their owner, this suits me fine - 'walkies" or any other kind of mundane exercise is an absolute bore.) and have just enough brass and audacity to be interesting companions.

We have two grays, Bagheera and Ghost, who have been delighting us for over 3 years now. These days, they are old enough and ugly enough to know that chewing the couch, or each other, will result is a quick squirt with the water bottle.

Handy thing to own - I have used it a couple of times on the man of the manor as well - he now knows too, not to chew the couch.

When it became abundantly clear to us that kiddly-winks were not on the Evans agenda, I took to helping out at the local RSPCA. The local animal shelter often advertises for volunteers to come up and "play" with the new kittens and puppies. This is supposed to assist with overall socialization, and hopefully their interview-skills, when it comes to getting picked for adoption.

Mr Johnson: So....Mr Mittens, how do you feel about litter hygiene?
Mr Mittens: Meow
Mr Johnson: I see.., and what are your views on couch mastication?
Mr Mittens: MEOOOUW!!
Mr Johnson: Next!

At any rate, I have recently been banned from my RSPCA duties; mainly due the fact that I keep bringing the little blighters home, much to my husband's and existing cats' dismay.

It's hard not to though; they are all so sweet, with perhaps the exception of one grizzly, old moggy named 'Bonkers'. Poor Bonkers has been adopted out 4 times, and returned, usually within 24 hours. The last family who adopted 'Bonkers" brought him back after a trip to the ER. I think they were probably a little hasty. I mean, ok, so he ate "Ronnie" the budgie, and proceeded to use the owner's face as a scratching post, but everyone has a bad-fur day, right?

After a few verbal rounds and hissy fits (from me, not the cats) I was allowed to bring one little guy home. It was a tough choice between a little black kitten named 'Popeye' and "Bonkers" (I thought, if anyone could give a cat an attitude adjustment, it would be moi...."Cat Whisperer Extraordinaire").
How could I choose between the two? It would be heartbreaking for the one I left behind, surely.

The selection process was made much easier, after 'Bonkers" tried to take out the man of the manor's testicles.

So, Popeye has come to live with us, and we are now one happy family.

Well, we are getting there...

Popeye hasn't quite gotten the hint about the couch, and he needs a little help with his litter hygiene. I am also hoping that his habit of climbing into (and subsequently splashing around in) the toilet bowl will cease and desist.
He'll get the hang of things, with a little help from the water bottle.

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So, whilst I am verging on cat-overload, I can confidently say that I am much better off than my neighbors.
Unlike us, they have restricted themselves to just one pet, but 'Cassius' the Great Dane causes more havoc than twenty 'Bonkers' put together.

Have you ever seen the film "Turner and Hooch"? Imagine the mutt in that film, but with the IQ of an amoeba.

On the Gold Coast, we are currently enjoying Level 5 Water restrictions (ie: Shower for more than three minutes and expect Peter Beattie to pop his head around the curtain with a large sponge). I think I have the solution to this problem. We simply put Cassius the Great Dane in the Wivenhoe Dam. The amount of slobber alone would have us back to normal in no time.
Most good and faithful dogs will perhaps fetch their master's slippers or newspaper. Cassius, on the other hand, fetches wheelie bins and the occasional roast chicken from some unsuspecting punter's kitchen.
However, I think Cassius' finest hour was at a recent high-school Athletics carnival. His owner is a local Phyical Education teacher, and he thought it would be a sterling idea to bring Cassius along to support the students.

Now let's take this from another point of view.

You are a gangly, gawky teenager. You have recently sprouted a fresh batch of pimples, and talking to girls is painful at best. However, today, you are running in the 800 metre finals. You are running, running like your date at the next school social depended on it. You've passed the guy in third place...SECOND PLACEyou are ahead of the pack with only 100 metres to go!
You turn your head briefly to see how far your nearest competitor is, but instead, you see a large, black, drooling blur coming up on the inside.....fast.
There is an almighty thud as you hit the ground....followed by a most uncomfortable sensation, and it dawns on you, with unspeakable horror, that you have become the object of this beast's affections, in front of the entire high school population.

Cassius the Casanova strikes again.

I don't know what became of the lad, but it is safe to say that if a large Great Dane attempts to perform unnatural acts on you in front of your peers, you're in for some serious issues later in life.

So, whilst my three little furballs may occasionally find an appetite for my shoes, and sometimes overshoot the litter box, I can sleep easy knowing they won't be sending young men into life-long therapy any time soon.