Monday, April 27, 2009

My two cute cats that no one knows I have.

Everyone always seems shocked to find out that we have cats. "You have 12 dogs AND two cats?!?!?" they say in shock. Yes, we have two cats. In fact, one of the cats came before any of the dogs.

Meet Daisy. Daisy is about 16 years old. I got her when she was a kitten from someone giving away kitties in the paper. Now, I know cats are strange, but Daisy has got to be up there among the strangest. She lives in our closet. Before I sound like a hideous pet parent, let me say, the door is open at all times. She can come out of the closet when ever she likes. Which she does do once night falls. Like I said, odd. I know what else you are thinking, "With all of those dogs of course she stays in the closet." But no, she sleeps on our bed with the dogs, right next to the dogs. She also won't drink out of anything but a drinking glass. odd. Oh, and she will not tolerate being held or picked up. But she's oddly affectionate.
Meet Berklie. Berklie is about 12 years old. I found him in a parking lot, under a car, covered in oil. He was about as big as a minute and his ear hair was bigger than he was. Good God he was cute. I took him home and tried to convince Tom that we needed a second cat to go with our current cat and our one dog (those were the days). He balked at first, but then Berklie snuggled up to Seven (our dog) and that was it. Berklie's actual name is Berkatu, as in Lybia. At the time I was working at a physical therapy clinic as a pt tech. I had this patient that I adored, Roger Smith. He was an older man who had been in World War II. Every day he would come in, hop on the stationary bike and I would say "Where are we biking to today?" and he would proceed to tell me about some place he had been during the war. He would tell me about the people there, the landscape, what he did there. He had so many amazing memories and they were all pretty positive, especially considering he was there because of a war. On his last day of therapy he came in and handed me an envelope and said "Today we are going to have a test". I opened the envelope and there was a stack of photos. They were all taken during the war, his personal photos. He said I had to look at the photo and tell him where it was - based on the landscape or various stories he had told. It was incredible. Needless to say I cried like baby when he left. I found Berklie that day and I INSISTED that he be named after Roger Smith in some way. So, Berkatu Lybia it was.