My sweet Que DeCat died this morning after nineteen years of life. I adopted her when she was almost two along with her paramour, Clyde. Que was grumpy and skittish, but she was my beautiful baby girl kitty. You all may recognize her as TybeeTabby. So sleep well Que and enjoy romping with Clyde on the other side.
I couldn’t resist Jennifer’s Challenge of Computer even though I know that not everyone likes cats. Here is Swampy at his finest. Helping supervising his human while he works…or is he just lurking in the hopes of treats.
DP Photo Challenge: Transitions
My hubby fished a kitten out of the marsh for me. This was back in July of this year. I have never had a kitten before so the “transition” over these past four months is pretty remarkable. See how his size goes from about 6 inches (1/2 of a 12 inch tile) to 24 inches (2 tiles)….and he is only 5 months old.
July 23…Here’s Swampy. Age 6 weeks
Layed out on the couch. Age 9 weeks
A distinguished lad. Age 11 weeks
Getting bigger. Age 16 weeks
Furry Crabby time. Age 22 weeks.
P.S. I had some issues with photos not showing up when I originally posted. Seemed to involve captioning. I removed the captions, now you can see the pictures. I have no clue why…but apologies.
Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: 2015 Week #11
Dinner guest of the furry variety. “Don’t skimp on the portions, Mom.”
I was thirty-eight years old when I received my first pet. I always loved cats, but my Mom wasn’t a big pet lover so we didn’t have any at home. When I was older and on my own, I wasn’t sure I knew enough to be a good pet owner. Well one day on-line talking to a friend, I mentioned, I liked cats and was thinking about getting one. His response was “my daughter is moving to a place that doesn’t allow pets, I can drop them off on Monday.” I became a pet owner. Clyde and Que. Clyde was the outgoing fun-loving mooch of a cat. Que is more of a reserved prima donna. Que is still with us and even serves as my avatar for Tybee Tabby. Clyde was the inspiration for my first post on WordPress. Unfortunately, Clyde passed a little over two years ago. Gone but not forgotten. Dang, I miss the little guy.
It was a cloudy and humid afternoon. The woman stepped on the porch to get a breath of fresh air and to more closely view the dolphins cavorting in the river. Soon a small head appeared at the doorway. It was the cat. The evil orange one, Clyde, who had just celebrated his 14th birthday.
While the woman watched, the cat ventured on the porch, delicately sniffing the chairs and deck. The woman carefully placed herself between the cat and the stairs so that there was no means of escape. At least, so she thought. Soon Clyde was poking his head between the porch rails, something had captured his attention. Was it a vicious lizard? This of course required a closer look. The cat’s body soon followed his head. Before you could say “bad kitty”, the cat was gone. Did he make the big jump or was he just a klutz? There was no way of telling.
The woman yelled…”Clydster” and headed for the door. (There may have been a few expletives deleted, but we won’t go there.) The man, who was watching his afternoon television show, leapt up and rushed to the porch, narrowly avoiding a nasty collision with the woman. He exclaimed, “he is headed for the marsh”. Both humans rushed down the stairs, headed toward the garden, the woman via the side path and the man through the garage. When they arrived, Clyde was casually exploring the holly bushes, with not a care in the world. He was quickly apprehended and returned to the safety of the sunroom. Henceforth to be banished completely from the outside world.
The “cat”astrophe was adverted.