Up until 2002 when I met Derrick, I only had eyes for one special black guy. My empty-nester parents are extremely attached to the now 18-year-old Georgie, placing him in a cryogenic preservation tank every night and spoon-feeding him steroids for his arthritis. Aside from occasional bouts of kitty 'roid rage, his quality of life seems to be pretty high.
His favorite pastimes include napping on the couch...
sleeping on the bed...
snoozing in a sunbeam on the back porch...
and generally giving up and succumbing to my snugs when I come home.
Our friends over at But Call Me Betsy are running a contest to see whose cat looks the cutest in this Puss-In-Boots conquistador hat. Georgie is extremely difficult to photograph what with all the blackness. Is that racist?
Here's me with Georgie on my 11th birthday when he was 8 weeks old. I think I wore that pink and purple sweatband as a headband for about two years. You can't see the shirt, but it has a teal horse jumping on it outlined in gold glitter glue. I was pretty cool, just like I am now.
I love Georgie and all of his splendid, old greasiness!
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