In 1998, I was at work one night at the police department, just packing up and getting ready to leave, when the front desk officer called. “These three college girls just brought in a kitten they found at a gas station,” he said. “Does anyone back there want it?” I told him they should take it to the Humane Society, good grief. Then I overheard one of the girls say, “He’s really cute! And we don’t have time, we’re on our way to a party.”
I then made a decision that I would later come to regret. I went up to the front desk and took the kitten, a filthy, matted, grey boy about eight weeks old, from those ridiculous, irresponsible girls. When I got home, my husband said, “What is THAT?” in a disapproving tone. I told him it was just for the night; I would take him to the Humane Society in the morning. I then gave the kitten a bath and discovered he wasn’t grey, he was actually cream-colored and his fur was long and fluffy. He tottered, in his kitten way, onto my husband’s lap and into his heart.
Six hundred dollars at the vet later (he had worms, fleas and ear mites and needed vaccinations), we had “Peekaboo,” named after the cat in the Rose is Rose comic strip. He turned out to be a singular beauty. Long, rabbit-soft fur that never tangled, pale grey Siamese markings, and the most beautiful blue eyes you ever saw. Problem was, he didn’t like us much at first. We showered him with as much affection as any “normal” cat would crave, and his reaction was usually “meh.” That, or he’d actually bite us! Still, we grew to love him, and he to tolerate us, and then, two years later, at a routine check-up at the vet, we discovered he had kidney disease.
It turns out that kidney issues are what most “elderly” cats eventually succumb to, but it’s fairly uncommon in young cats. Alas, he had in effect been given a death sentence. A few months later, he was gone.
About a month after that, my husband was getting his hair cut and happened to tell his barber about our recent loss and how much we missed having a cat. “That’s a coincidence,” said Gary. “The lady at the sandwich shop next door found a pregnant cat in a dumpster, and she just had six kittens.”
We couldn’t get to her house fast enough. The mom cat was big and grey, and five of her kittens were grey. The sixth was pure white with a dark nose. Pretty much exactly the way Peekaboo looked when I first saw him. We decided to take the white one and one of his grey brothers. My husband named the white one “Boo-Boo” in honor of Peekaboo, and I named the grey one “Waphels” in honor of my brother’s cat, who had also recently succumbed to kidney disease.
Boo-Boo’s fur eventually developed a tuxedo-style pattern, dark grey to pale beige, with white paws, chest and belly. A white streak divides his otherwise grey face, which makes him unique and, IMO, rather adorable. Unlike the beautiful but stand-offish Peekaboo, Boo-Boo adores us. He’s one of the sweetest, most affectionate (not to mention talkative!) cats we’ve ever had, and we love him like crazy.
So when Artchix Studio announced a swap for “I Love my Pet” ATCs, I was all over it. The requirements are that you use one of their new papers (I chose the turquoise) and any other Artchix product. The wonderful thing about Artchix swaps is that the entries are made into collage sheets and each participant gets the sheets and other goodies along with their swap returns. It’s just like Christmas!
I took a photo of Boo-Boo as he was patiently waiting in the kitchen for me to “accidentally” drop some ham from my sandwich. I decided he’d be cute all dressed up for his birthday (which was Feb 10) and went with a “party animal” theme. I used the Artchix “Wonderful Wings” and “Party Hats” collage sheets, which are really colorful and fun. Fortunately, all the wings and/or hats have flowers on them, so I didn’t have to add more. 🙂
They’re all the same design, with various hats, wings and the orientation of the glitter swirls – except one. Which of these is not like the other? Can you spot the difference?