Old Farty Cat

Bloomin' Onionhead came up with the title for this story. So go yell at him if the thought grosses you out. You can all thank me later, as I will NOT being adding a sound byte via audio post to this story.

Now, on with the show... my folks have to move to an apartment next month. At the new place they can only have one animal. Before talks of the move came up, they had five cats and one dog.

My parents both favor the dog over any and all of the cats, except for one, Guido. That's right, my family has a cat named Guido. His full name, Guido The Killer Cat From Hell.

Back in the day, Guido was a sleek, small, white kitten, who was given his name in honor of all the Italian men in our neighborhood, who we called the Guidos.

He chased any rodent that even thought about coming into my parent's house. He was fast and even came equipped with a little gray racing stripe of fur, down the center of his head.

He was the first cat we actually picked out and brought home, unlike all of the cats that were dragged in by children like me who "found" them or traded some silly neighbor kid a kitten for a Twinkie. (See Guilt Of A Girl in my January archives.)

My parents had trouble making their choice but the truth of the matter is, Guido probably won't be with us much longer. He is 17 years old. No, it's okay, keep reading. This is nothing to be sad about.

This cat has been treated like a kitty king his whole life. Granted, his gray stripe of fur has turned white. His coat has lost its shimmer and as much as this cat eats (he loves people food more than cat food) he has lost a bunch of weight. He used to be a 40 pound cat and now he might be around 12 pounds. He is long and very bony. (He is 31 inches when he stands on his back legs. Yes, Lane 1 and I measured him. This is one long ass cat!)

For the most part, he acts more like a dog. When you call his name, he comes. When you tap your leg while sitting, he hops up onto your lap. When you say "sit", he sits.

True, sometimes he has no manners, "DOWN! Cats do not belong on the kitchen table, bad boy!" Yes, I really lecture a cat but down he jumps.

At any rate, I still lived at home when he came to live with us and I got very attached, which means, you guessed it, he came to live here. When I moved into my first apartment, I missed the cat more than my parents. (Just don't let them know I said that!)

I can't make fun of the old fart too much because he has provided my family members with lots of joy over the years. One memory I have of him was when my nephew was being potty trained. Everyone thought he pooped and forgot to wipe and flush, until, my mom caught Guido squatting on the toilet a couple of days later. No, he never learned to wipe or flush, and after falling in a few times over the years, he went back to the litter box. But seriously, how cool is that? He taught himself how to use the toilet.

Guido is a great cat and always has been but there's one tiny disgusting thing he does that makes me laugh until I have tears in my eyes. He farts. Loudly. High-pitched, squeaky, old cat ass farts. I know that is terribly gross, but funny as hell.

Last night Guido was playing his furry butt trumpet and I told Lane 1 to check the cat's ass to make sure he didn't have a whistle stuck in there. But again, I'll spare you the audio.

Please don't forget to e-mail me your thoughts about marriage. I look forward to everyone's opinion. Send to kwatley@comcast.net and thanks!