Meet the Homos

I'm pleased to announce that - since I was never contacted by a representative from the gay community at all in spite of my request from March of this year - I'm going to consider the word "homo" commandeered for safe, appropriate usage between me and my cats. 

With that in mind - I'd like to introduce the world to My Furry Homos.

Squirrel

aka "Squirellybob"

aka "Squirrel E. Bob"

aka "Bob"

aka "Bobert"

aka "Bobert Bobbington"

aka "Bobcat"

aka "Batman"

aka "Batcat"

aka "Weirdly McChat"

aka "Weirdo Machine"

aka "Darren Dinglethorpe"

This cat is - for lack of a better expression - a Titan of Industry (the industry I'm referring to is "being a cat"). When we first met, he was a young alley cat who routinely fought groups of raccoons and went from house to house saying what's up to people and whatnot. Now he's older, settled down, and much more refined; now he prefers to think of himself as a Cat Food Mogul rather than an alleycat beggar (though he'd certainly never turn his Cat Nose up at a treat from my garbage can...or your garbage can).

True story: at one point during his days as an alley cat, back when he would go from house to house, he disappeared. He quit coming around. After a day I started getting these visions of him in jail. Eventually I started calling our local animal control facilities. Sure enough: his "owner" (some horrible pig of a woman named Jillian Fitz-something) had gotten tired of caring for him and took him to the pound and asked them to put him down. Whore! Anyways, I adopted him and sprung him from the Cat Penitentiary. Unfortunately, they wouldn't release him without neutering him...which meant that my plan to use him to father an army of black and white cats would have to be revised.

Pros: One of two cats capable of displaying even an ounce of intelligence over instinct.

Cons: Excessively hairy. Constantly shedding. Won't shut the fuck up if you have food...or at any other time. Thinks he's too good for the litterbox and sometimes takes a dump just outside the box. Will sneak outside in a heartbeat. Won't stay off the goddamn kitchen counters even under threat of torture. Prefers toilet water over his water bowl. Born with a rare birth defect that's caused 90% of his teeth to come out. Rips furniture, blankets, and clothing to shreds. Terrible breath.

How to tell him apart from the others: facial coloring resembles Batman's mask after the Bane fight.

We made Weez wear his Bane mask, put on the Dark Knight Rises trailer, and tried to get them to fight.  Didn't work out.

Malvo

aka "Malvo the Wonder Kitty"

aka "Malverz"

aka "Vo"

aka "Dr. Vo"

aka "Malvobuns"

aka "Starfish Twinkletoes"

aka "John Malvo"

aka "Derek Dongenheimer"

This is the kind of cat that can make an instant dog lover out of a person. I picked him up so Squirrel would have a friend to play with during the day...ot at least that's what I tell people if they inquire as to whether or not I'm raising an army. I remember it well: the girl from the rescue organization told me she'd stop by my place around dinnertime, so I spent the whole day telling Squirrel about his big, bad brother who just got paroled...like trying to scare him (remember this is back when I thought he listened to me). When Little Malvo finally arrived, he was no bigger than a hamster. I held him out in the palm of my hand to Squirrel and said "Hey...meet your new little brother, Squi-" ...before I knew it, Squirrel had lifted his paw up and smacked Malvo out of my hand. Their relationship hasn't changed at all.

You could state the Malvo is pure instinct over intelligence, but after six years or so I would argue that comment implies there IS some sort of intelligence, and is thus incorrect. He's grown into a sweet cat, sure, but trust me: there is no one home upstairs if you get my drift. This cat is all about eating, chasing, and attacking. That's it. Well, that and damaging my property.

One good thing about Malvo - when I come across evidence that one of these Furry Idiots has been tightroping across the top of our wall-mounted television, I don't exactly have to set up a Nannycam to find out which one's been doing it.

Pros: Sheds less certain other Fur Idiots and has the most normal toilet habits. Takes the creepiest pictures.

Cons: Howls like a demon monkey at night. Smelliest bowel movements. Falls a lot. Constantly starts fights with his Fur Siblings. Scared of everything. Will often destroy the entire living room chasing a bug or shadow.

How to tell him apart from the others: facial coloring (if the Hitler moustache isn't a dead giveaway, he's the only cat sporting a goatee).

Inspector Tequila

 aka "Inspector T"

aka "Weasel"

aka "Weez"

aka "Weezer"

aka "Weazy-peazy"

aka "Weaselman"

aka "Denny Dickmouth"

Oh boy. Anybody wondering what could have possessed me at this point to want to adopt a THIRD furry idiot gets a ninja high five: you're absolutely correct to be critical, it was the shittiest decision I've ever made...and I once leased a car. This furry nightmare began his life in the custody of my veteranarian-esque cousin, Marydroid. Weighing in at just under twelve pounds, he's the runtiest cat I own, but an interesting factoid is that he's not actually the runt of his own litter. That distinction went to his brother, who was born so retarded they actually named him Forrest and ultimately had to put him down three weeks later. Basic Life would have defeated him.

I named him Inspector Tequila but, after a few weeks, I'd begun calling him Weasel pretty much exclusively. That's how much of a fuckin weasel this cat is: I have an opportunity to call him by the most badass name there is (thereby increasing my own badass stock a little every time the words came out of my mouth) and instead...well, let me put it to you this way: I could tiptoe up behind him right now and say INSPECTOR TEQUILA and he'd have no fuckin clue what I was saying. But WEASEL? Oh, he'd turn right around.

Behaviorally, he's probably the worst cat we have. Unfortunately, he's also the cuddliest, and he's learned the advantages of keeping Amydroid on his side. So, sure enough, every time I get pissed enough to start eyeing my pond and wondering how one goes about tying a rock around a cat's neck such that he couldn't wriggle free, this furry anus will be rubbing on Amydroid's leg until I hear the Phrase of Defeat: "Well...I guess we didn't really NEED that (broken object)." This cat is going to outlive them all...and probably me as well.

See that nice, peaceful lamp in the background of this nice, peaceful picture?

BOOM!  Y'all humans just got CATIFIED!

Pros: Not completely retarded like Malvo. Rarely sheds any fur at all.

Cons: Pure engine of dark destruction as fueled by Lucifer himself. No concept of boundaries or order. Hands-down worst, most goddamn fucking annoying toilet habits you can imagine (just broke a $200 automatic litterbox, thanks Weez!). Can somehow sharpen his claws far beyond the normal talons the rest of them develop and into something so deadly I'm not convinced I don't legally need to register them with authorities. Won't stay off the kitchen counters.

How to tell him apart from the others: facial coloring (L-shaped white spot across face).

Bizkit

 aka "Bizzy"

aka "Bizzy B"

aka "Bizzy Buns"

aka "the Biz"

aka "Captain"

aka "Miss Thang"

aka "Little Mama"

aka "Furtorious B.I.Z."

Finally we arrive at the gorgeous Bizzy B. Biz is far older than the rest of our army and the reasoning is simple: Amydroid made the worst choice of her life (to adopt a cat) years & years before I made the worst choice of my own. The Biz is easily the most well-behaved cat in the Fur Arsenal, though to be fair, I attribute this to the lower energy levels that come around when a person (or the equivalent) hits ninety (or the equivalent). That certainly isn't intended to imply she's some sort of angel, because she isn't - none of them are. But, she's very intelligent, she can be cuddly, and when it comes to destroying big-ticket items within my household, she's got a record that was completely spotless up until about six weeks ago when she participated in the complete destruction of the lamp that Amydroid grew up with. Furry whore!

Bizkit has a great sense of boundaries, and I know if she ever escaped from the Hayabusa Stronghold, she wouldn't wander far (whereas the others would end up in Canada). She's also the most adept at not getting caught sneaking into and out of areas in the house that are verboten to the furry.

Pros: Makes my wife happy.  Displays the most intelligence over instinct.  A sweet girl who is generally well-behaved...for the most part.  As far as I know.

Cons: Constantly leaking shit out of her left eye.  Exceptionally sneaky.  Thinks she's a fuckin martyr.  Fakes injuries.  Can't stop pacing prior to feeding time, to the point where the other cats attack her.  Constantly licks your hands and - if you have a fingernail at all - will use available fingernails to floss her teeth or clean her gumline.  Constantly vomits all over everything (and when she does?  Eighteen inch tiles all over our place and she ALWAYS manages to hit a fuckin grout line).  Too daintly to set foot in the litterbox (she does a balancing act on the rim that makes it sound like fuckin boulders are falling into the litter). 

Post a pic of a female cat taking a dump - CHECK!  One more item ticked off the Bucket List.

How to tell her apart from the others: Coloring; she's the only one who never resembles an anorexic panda bear.
 ___

Hope you've enjoyed today's journey through the menagerie that is our home.  Always remember - one cat is enough.

D.H.