Wednesday, September 28, 2011


At the risk of sounding like a crazy cat lady, this blog is about my cat, Ty. You have my blessing to stop reading now if you are not a cat fan. I understand its annoying to hear about someone else's pet. That being said- I am lonely for my Ty tonight.You see, when I moved out on my own, he continued to live with my mom and dad. So, he's really my mom's cat now. I'm pretty sure he hissed at me last time I tried to pick him up.

Meet Ty Coots. My family and I found him as a 4 week old furball trying to cross the highway in Jacksonville. We were on our way to Miami to board our first cruise ship ever. Thank goodness the traffic was slow moving due to roadwork or else he woud've been a pancake. He ran out in front of us & on instinct, my dad hopped out and scooped him up. Then..... we were stuck with a kitten....and we were on our way to Jamaica. All the humane societies were either "full" or used the "he's too small for us to take care of" excuse. What?? You are a HUMANE society! We finally found a saint named Debbie from PetSmart. She took him home with her for a week, making us sign in blood that we would come back for him when we returned from our cruise. She already had something like 9 cats at home and didn't need another.

Sure enough, we came back for him. On the car ride home we
relived all the good times from the cruise. It seemed that every story we recounted from the trip had something to do with the boy we met from Fyffe, Alabama....Ty Coots. Everything was funny about him, right down to his name. One of those boys who got the braids in his hair in the Bahamas, got busted for under-aged drinking, had a thick Alabama accent and said things like..."Let me smell of it" (when trying to figure out if a drink had liquor in it or not.) It was then we decided that our kitten would carry on his name.

Hard to believe its been 4 years since then. Ty Cootsie has brought us more laughter than we ever intended. He is fat and spoiled rotten, just how cats are supposed to be.

He wants to be in your presence, but do not dare act like you see him or care that he is in the room...or else you will get the evil eye.

He loves to play peek-a-boo, but only on his time. Not when you want to. Oh, and clean sheets are his thing.

Birdwatching is his favorite hobby. He chirps at them and swishes his tail back and forth. If it weren't for the window, he would pounce.
His rabbit feet are my very favorite. Sometime he will let me rub his little paw pads if he is sleepy enough.

How can you not love this face?


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