I realized yesterday that I never told y’all any of Joe Bob’s back story. I’ll do that now, and then copy it to his page when I get around to it (which will probably be in three years or so, knowing me).
Joe Bob was born in a litter to a feral mother somewhere in South Huntsville. Luckily for the mother and the kittens, a couple of women who volunteer for the same shelter I volunteer for either discovered the mother and kittens soon after, or had been feeding the mother for a while, I’m not sure which. When the kittens were a little older they trapped them all and had them spayed and neutered (though it’s entirely possible they trapped the mother before she had her babies. Clearly I didn’t get as many details as I thought I did!). The mother cat was truly feral, so they released her and one of her kittens and to this day they still feed the two cats.
One of the women fostered the litter of kittens until they were socialized and ready to go to the pet store. They went to the pet store and got adopted; Joe Bob and his sister (who was named MoonDance, but we called Myrtle) were returned a few years later due to a death in the family. They sat at the pet store for a couple of months until a year ago, when the shelter manager asked if we’d mind bringing them home to give them a break from being caged.
It was at our house that I noticed that Joe Bob and Myrtle weren’t all that attached to each other. I thought they’d be perfectly fine, adopted separately, and I actually thought Joe Bob might have a better chance at adoption if his crazy (“cranky”, his original foster mom termed her. Heh.) prone-to-shrieking sister wasn’t part of the package.
Myrtle went to the pet store and Joe Bob stayed with us for a few more weeks, then went to the pet store too. They both sat there in cages for what seemed like forever, and then Joe Bob was adopted and Myrtle went back to the shelter. Joe Bob was returned after a short amount of time and went directly back to the shelter.
At some point, Myrtle got herself adopted and Joe Bob languished in the shelter. It drove Fred crazy – he’d periodically check the shelter’s PetFinder page and see that Joe Bob was still there, and we’d talk about what a tragedy it was, that no one could appreciate what a great cat Joe Bob was (is).
When I dropped Punki and Felicia off at the pet store on Saturday, the adoption counselor asked after Joe Bob, and said how happy she was that we’d adopted him, since our house is cat heaven.
Joe Bob reminds me a lot of Spot. He’s not as neurotic as Spot was, but he’s very quiet, and he likes to follow me around. He acts nervous about being outside (like he thinks he’s not supposed to be out there) and he’s a great big pig when it comes to Snackin’ Time.
He’s really a sweet boy with a good heart and maybe it’s a good thing no one else was able to appreciate what a good boy he was (is). The more time goes by, the better he fits in with our other cats, and I dare say that I saw he and Mister Boogers rub against each other last night. I mean, it WAS Snackin’ Time and they both get quite excited and forget themselves when there’s Snackin’ on the way, but still. Give it another few months, I might even be able to say that they’ve become friends.
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Sugarbutt watches the birds outside. It’s too cold outside – it was actually spitting snow earlier – to let the cats out, and they’re most displeased with me.
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Previously
2007: I really think that seven cats is just too many for us to have on a permanent basis. Six really feels like the right number for us. (Oh, poor naive, silly, deluded 2007 Robyn.)
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.