I'm currently in a serious dispute with Kleio right now. I haven't had this much trouble knitting lace since I first started knitting lace. (it's not the pattern, it's totally me). While I'm tinking back several rows of 280-some-odd stitches each, I thought I'd give you a little more Rocky.
Long time readers may know some of this, but there are probably some tidbits you don't know.
Rocky is our youngest. (Tux is actually the middle-child for all that he's Top Cat). Rocky was a barn kitten, brought home from my grandparents' barn - the last surviving kitten in a litter of five. (The others got an infection of some sort and didn't make it)
This is what he looked like when I brought him home that night.
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Baby barn cat! |
Scrawny, filthy and full of almost every parasite you could think of (fleas, lice, ear mites, worms....).
But after a bath, a trip or two to the vet, and some regualr feedings, he plumped right up into a normal healthy little kitten.
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Plumped up! |
Dave hadn't yet moved in, and I managed to keep Rocky a secret until Dave came to spend the weekend.
"Why is the litter box in the kitchen?" he asked when he came in.
I mutely pointed to the futon, where there was the tiniest little set of white paws sticking out.
I got the glare and a: "You got another cat????"
But Rocky quickly wormed his way into Dave's heart - and despite Dave not living with us until several years later, he claimed Dave as his person.
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Handsome, but evil! |
Peno and Tux adapted to his presence pretty quickly.
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"Little brothers are the worst!" |
Though Peno still looks on him as if he's nothing but a nuisance most of the time. Which he is.
It took me a couple of weeks to name him. I was actually planning on calling him Alastor - after Alastor Moody of Harry Potter - because he was quite a vocal little thing when he was upset (and had the cutest little grumble).
But then, one evening, Dave and I were curled up on the couch with him, watching the Rocky Horror Picture show. Rocky was purring away and I noted to Dave that he has a very burbling purr... like water bubbling over a rocky stream bed..... rocky stream.... Rocky Horror.... it just clicked - and Rocky was named.
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Oh Rocky! |
Rocky is a cat with quirks. I'm never allowed to take a bath alone...ever... even after all these years.
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"I'm a life guard!" |
He's definitely a social cat
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"I can't draw, but I'll smack your crayons under the couch for you!" |
And loves to be involved with whatever's going on. Unless someone knocks or rings a door bell
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"Shhhh... I'm hiding.." |
Then you'll find him burrowed into the blankets on the bed.
He's also extremely vocal - and not just when he's upset.
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"Mom. Mom. Mom. Moooooooooommmmmmmm...." |
I'm pretty sure he talks just to hear himself talk. And of course, 4 am yodeling is one of his favourite sports (the sparkle balls did not help...), and he especially loves the echo his voice has in the stairwell.
He's put on quite a bit of weight over the years
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"I don't comment on your weight...now give me a another cheeseburger." |
... but I'm hoping this spring, we can get out more and help him lose some of it.
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"I am the master of stealth..." |
Though he's never going to be able to catch that rabbit.