Monday, June 23, 2014


Pets.  Our little loves.

I have a ragdoll, which is a kind of Siamese cat.  Huge kitties, they are, with three-point seal marks and the bluest eyes.  Obi is a shy guy.  A little cranky.

I got him at the Humane Society over five years now.  He is a pure blood and  his previous family couldn't keep him, they were moving.  When he first saw me, he crawled into my lap and hid his sweet face in the crook of my arm, more or less begging me to take him home with me.  After a week for some health issues, I did.

When I got him home, he did the perimeter search cats do, then he leapt into my lap, snuggled in as tight as he could get and sighed deeply, went to sleep for about an hour  Ragdolls do that.   You can tell when Obi is deeply content.  The sigh is the signal.

He was a kitty who didn't know kisses or long held hugs.  I think his previous family liked him well enough, but they sorta thought he was a cat.   He didn't expect that he might be family here.  He is.

He snuggles in every night, then slips off to sleep on the end of the bed.  He won't eat unless  I'm sitting beside his bowl.  This morning he crawled on board and purred up a storm.  Last week, he was not happy that I was away from home so much, so he climbed into my lap and stretched out his claws.  If I moved, I got the treatment.  It was enough that I stayed home and held him the whole time.

The little buggers have their ways.  

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