This is not a cat blog- But here are my cats!

I grew up in a household with just a mess of animals, we were never without at least 3. Now my mother has 9 chickens, two rabbits, three cats, a dog and one bird that we think may be immortal.

So needless to say, animals have always been a super important part of my life. So, because I love doing this on all new social media sites, here are my boyos!

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This is Arthur, and I love this photo because he just looks maaaajorly pissed off, but the following photo looks like this:

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He was just rolling in the sunshine. Arthur showed up in my ex-neighbors back yard not very long after I lost two pet rats and a cat whom I’d had most of my life. We didn’t know it for a couple weeks, but this feisty guy was actually my neighbors cat and we’d catnapped him from their back yard. Well, what would you think if you found a kitten less than 3 months old, outside, with no food or water? Yeah, I didn’t feel too bad about my evil deed.

Arthur is coming up on 7 years old here at the end of April and he’s been sick for almost 3 years. It started with a major blockage of his urinary tract, then surgery, then surgery on his paws for center claws that weren’t supposed to be there, then a UTI that simply will not go away. We have to clean his paws daily because he’s a polydactyl (Or Hemingway cat, he’s got multiple extra toes due to inbreeding) and there are spots that get gunked up with stuff and turn hard and cut in to him causing lesions and pain. Additionally he has a limp, it happened after the claw surgery so we think there was some nerve damage.

All these problems, but he’s strong as hell and loves like nobodies business. We call him The King.

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Cheech. Cheecho. Mr. Cheech. MISTER McCEECHERINO.

This is probably the most normal picture I have of him, because El Presidente is a little… wild.

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And muy suspicaz. Ooohoohooo.

Anyway, Cheech is one part of a pair of boys I adopted from the same house I catnapped Arthur from, just, different neighbors. See Cheech and (you guessed it) his brother Chong were living in my dads truck. We put food and water in there for them and gave them somewhere warm to live until their owner returned to take them home. Well she returned, but she never went home and Cheech and Chong were still homeless.

Mi esposo basically said, if they’re still living in that truck by the time we move out were taking them.

That happened much quicker than we expected. My mother went to the neighbors, told them we were interested and then- they were living in our garage. Cheech had pink eye in both eyes, but never once fought when we were giving him the medicine. He’s much smarter than your average cat and I’m serious about that. He was fully aware that we were helping him and he just sat with me until I told him it was okay to go and then he’d run off to try and clean his eyes knowing the medicine was all ready all up in him.

He lays in my arms like you’d hold a baby and forces his head under my chin to snuggle with me, he’s the first to wake up and the last to go to sleep and my mother says that she hasn’t seen a cat so in love with a human since my brothers cat Rayne. (May she rest peacefully)

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Last, but never least, Chong.

He’s 17 pounds of marshmallow fluff and doesn’t really like or listen to his name. He prefers names like: Chunk, My Sweet Babboo and anything in baby talk. He likes to sleep under the covers and has taught the other 2 boys how to do the same. When he walks he makes padding sounds that sound like a small child running around, it’s terrifying, but it’s just Chong.

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When we first saw the boys outside he was the one to come up to us and ask for love and we always found him sleeping in the back of my moms Kia Sportage after the window broke. That was why they started living in the truck. Because of how friendly he was we knew that they wouldn’t survive on the street and something had to be done quickly.

Chong has his quirks, he doesn’t like his face petted unless you’ve all ready started petting him. He panics when you pick him up. But the rest of the time he’s purring louder than the trains that roll by my house.

Anyway, those are my boys!

Stick around cause they’ll be round again.

-Jess