Here's another installment about Buddy, the kitten rescued from a sewer
pipe by J. Michael Stra... whatever - the guy who writes Babylon 5.

Enjoy!!

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For those who've been inquiring about the latest on Buddy....

Well, I've finally answered one of the questions I've had about the
whole of the Boo clan (named for the first cat adopted out of this
group, Boo, the cat with one blue eye and one green eye). I suspected
that one of the two progenitors of this group was a siamese, givens
ome of the markings, a suspicion recently confirmed when one came out
with all the siamese recessive genes....

And now Buddy, the king of the recessive genes, has answered the
other half of that question. The other progenitor was a Maine coon
cat...which is what he is, in spades.

Maine coon cats are big, very funny, very predatory (in a cute way)
cats that can get to be 25 pounds or better. Not only does Buddy have
all the markings, inclusive of the big sweeping tail that's as long
as he is...at 8 months he is already 12 pounds without an ounce of
fat there anywhere. By the time he finishes growing -- and Maine coon
cats can grow into their third year -- he will be big enough to have
his own zip code.

I have let a furred Godzilla into my home.

They are also known as the clowns of the cat species...as evidenced
pretty much every day, inclusive of the day he found the bag of
plastic peanuts, rolled around in same, until static electricity had
covered him nose to tail in phosphorescent green styrofoam peanuts
until you couldn't see a trace of fur...and went parading around the
house as proud as if he'd just discovered radium (which, given the
green color, seemed about right). I scraped them off, and they kept
flying back onto him drawn by the static, but finally got them all
off...he ran off...I turned around...and he had done exactly the same
thing again. This time the pursuit went all over the house, leaving
little bits of peanut over every square inch.

He doesn't meow, he chirrups and trills, Maine coon traits. So he
wanders the house, just talking to himself all day. I think he's
worried about the economy, but I'm not sure.

He's also the poster child for attempted suicide. Leaving out how he
was found, every day he does something to elicit a shriek of horror
from me. In a ten minute span of time, for instance, he went from
trying to chew through a power cord at the socket (sticking his claws
into the open socket below for leverage), to wrapping the mouse cord
under my desk around his neck like a noose, and finally, when chased
out of my office, I looked out to find him sticking his paw into the
toaster.

It's like that every day with him. Every. Day.

I don't know where he came from, but he does seem in an awful big
hurry to get back there. Whether he or I survive this process only
the universe knows.

If anyone sees a mushroom cloud rising from the Los Angeles area
someday, you will know that Buddy finally hit the big time....

jms