Pumpkin Juice

Call me crazy or even un-Bybee like, but we got a cat. To be exact, Dina got a cat, or kitten, for her birthday. I cannot lay claim to the creature since it is well documented that I grew up with a disdain for felines (at least the domesticated variety) due to several reasons: 1) I'm allergic, 2) tabby prejudice has been a tradition passed down for years from father to son and from brother to brother, and 3) I've personally always found moggy's to be irritating; the way they brush up next to my legs or spontaneously jump onto my lap, invading my bubble of comfort and safety.

So why the cat, you say? Like I mentioned before there may be a bit of insanity involved. But this I can tell you . . . there is a desire to break with tradition and to make my tom-cat loving wife happier. She has always had mousers in her life.

Dina has named him Pumpkin Juice. Pumpkin for short, or Pee-pee for an even shorter form (thanks to Cora). As for me, I continue to call him "cat" until I get over my years of pent up bigotry. I confess, however, that it has been fun so far to have another living thing in the house to care for. I can remember my very first pet, a rabbit named Hopper, as well as all the other pets over the years: ducks, chickens, turkeys, pheasants, dogs, reptiles, turtles, hamsters, etc. Those were good times and therefore good memories. I think this one will be too.