Every now and then I get melancholy and tire of political discourse (read BS), election diatribe, mean-spirited liberals slamming my vote choice, and of course my mean-spirited slams against “her,” which is certainly well-deserved, and think about my cats. Yes, this ole, worn-out, retired, (and yes tired), Infantry Marine, and my bride of 30 years raise cats. Not just plain old vanilla, house cats, but the gorgeous, intelligent, hypoallergenic, immigrant from Russia. So named for its homeland where it roams free in the harshest of climes – Siberia.
Siberians are smart, possessed of a dog-like personality by meeting you at the door and to welcome you from a day at work. Their jumping ability allows them to negotiate places ordinary cats just dream about. For example the photo of our Nadeah resting on the valance begs the question, “How’d she get there?” Well, she’s a Siberian!
Starting at 0130, our Zhaklin finished around 0430 this past Friday morning giving birth to three magnificent creatures, How anyone can watch the birthing of life followed by the natural tendencies to search for the nipple while Mom cleans them and helps them in their search and not belief there is a God is beyond me.
But then I digress, as one may well imagine, I take a lot of heat from my fellow Marines, about this gruff old Marine raising pussy cats. But I guess I deserve it. I get lots of attachments to emails about cats. Received one the other day that is the funniest to date. Each time I watch it I darn near roll out of the chair with laughter. Take a peek and see what you think.
May have to copy and paste: