My Boyfriend's Back & You're Gonna Be in Trouble!

A-la, A-la, my boyfriend's back...

Some of you may remember, Boyfriend, AKA Teddy, from my former blog called The Diabolical Kitty. Well, I decided I needed to re-acquaint you, dear reader, with this funny, furry feline that pretty much rules the roost around here.  (He got his nickname simply because he gets away with murder--most notably--sleeping between Rahn and I at night.  Worse,  I won't let Rahn move him--never before has a pet slept in our covenant bed.)  This is despite the fact that, as cats go, he's totally worthless!!  Yet, once in a lifetime the rare pet falls into your lap-- all four paws. And this one is quite the character. 

my 2 boyfriends!

Notice the tail length!

Who else but Boyfriend will only drink water out of a running faucet?  Who else has a tail almost twice the length of his body?  Who else will NOT stop meowing--louder and louder and louder--until you figure out what he wants?  Who else sleeps in the bath tub or the bathroom sink?  Who else goes where no man dares to go in this house--like on the tops of tall furniture? And who else lets the mice go scott free, skittering around here in the wee hours of the night? (And don't even ask me why a house built from stone isn't mouse proof!) To all of the above...it would be...Boyfriend!!

When we tell folks we have mice they say, "Oh, just bring a barn cat in."
"But we have a cat." I remind them. However, about the only mouse he's interested in is the mouse on my computer. As a matter of fact, he daily tries to attack it while I'm writing this blog.

check out those devil ears!

The real clincher came the other night when we awoke to knawing in our bedroom. Nothing sets me more on edge than lying in the dark listening to something chewing away where I'm sleeping.  And if I'm not sleeping, nobody's sleeping.
"Honey," I say to my snoring husband.  "There's a mouse knawing in here."  He responds with a groggy, "That's nice."
"No, no it's not nice.  You have to get up and get the trap."
After saying this about ten times, Rahn figures it's easier to just go and  get the trap, because he knows I'm afraid and won't walk around in the middle of the night..and because...I won't give up bugging him 'til he does.
The trap now set, we all drift off to sleep again--for about three minutes....Ka THWACK! Rahn shoots up in bed with, "We got the mouse!  We got the mouse!"
"Hold on," I said. "The sound of that trap going off had a hollow twang to it, and moments before I could have sworn Boyfriend left the bed." Sure enough, we turned on the lights only to find the loafer crouched next to it, all innocence, the trap spung.

Pretty much any real animal that normal cats hunt, he ignores; Unless--of course--it would be my styrofoam, feather covered quail ornaments.  I have a set of three that look so life-like I have to put them under bell jars in the highest spot possible, or you know who will be after them.  Still, these measures just don't work.  I caught him red handed the other morning with one dangling from his mouth, it's eye nearly gouged out.  The poor ornamental quail looked pathetic with slobber on its feathers and a dangling eye.  Boyfriend didn't care. He batted it ruthlessly on the floor 'til he grew tired of it.

"Mine...all mine!"

Now that the boyfriend's back, I'm sure you'll be seeing him around this blog from time-to-time. If things get really desperate and I need to bring in the big guns to get him in line, there's always Bella, my 4 year old granddaughter.  She makes Attilla the Hun look like a cub scout when it comes to animals; but believe me, that's a story for another blog!  Until then...

the end