Before you read this, know that I am not by any means a cat person. I've no emotional attachement to animals, though I will say from time to time they are enjoyable. Somehow, I've always befriended cat people... people who LOVE cats. Would die for cats. Would kill a person before killing a cat. It was probably their mindsets alone that seeped into my brain and a month ago spoke from my mouth that I would spontaneously get a kitten.
He's a blonde little ginger baby with green eyes. After much debate on a proper name, it became one he grew into- Bacon Shaymus Thibodeaux.
Yes. I know it's SHAMEUSE but I tend to not spell things correctly on purpose because it's unique and you will LIKE IT!
So Bacon started out as a meek baby... and I don't know if it's because his owner has rubbed off on him or if it's because all kittens are loons... but he's fucking nuts. He gets into things I didn't know could be gotten into.
He likes wires.
And curtains.
And beds you can crawl IN to the frame of.
And likes it when I chase him about the house.
He's fucking nuts. And I got him because I felt lonely. I am no longer lonely, I will have you know. Just busy. With Bacon.
But this story isn't about mister Shaymus. Oh no. It's about his long lost brother, Mister Bigglesworth.
Three days ago, there was word that a cat got into the housekeeping storage room of the hotel that I work at. Without further detail I said, "I'll catch that cat." Many disbelievers said they'd been trying to catch it for a couple days without luck. Said it was wild and wouldn't come to anyone. Shun the non-believers, Charlie. Shun.
Last night, about 4:30am when I was turning in some paperwork to the downstairs office mid-shift, I decided to hang out in the break room a few minutes. I don't know what posessed me to do this, I never hang out in the break room. But there I was last night. And I heard it. The gurgled meow of a hungry kitty.
I peered out the break room, and caught a glimps of a black paw going down a seperate hallway. One opposite the storage room he'd been hiding- and also a hallway I knew came to a dead end. I snuck after the shadow down the long hallway. It lead to where the bellboys stored their luggage carts, but I knew at this time all doors would be shut. I reached the end and found nothing.
DUB TEE EFF MATE?
But I heard a rustling from behind me- five old people power chairs stashed in a corner. I saw his eyes gleam at me. "Gotcha." I said smiling at him.
I moved the power chairs one by one, until I was right in front of the one in the corner he was hiding in. Just then, the manager of Environmental Services walked out of a door from back up the hallway. "Francis!" I called to him.
"The cat! Can you move this chair so I can catch him if he tries to run?"
"Yeah sure! I can't believe it. How did he get all the way over here?"
"He was hungry."
He moved the chair forward and -FLOOOSH-
there goes the BABY!!
Yes the baby! He wasn't much bigger than the little asshole I had at home! He was just black with a white snout and white toes and a fluffy black tail! (My friend Squats might say this was the long lost Bootsie) I held him by his middle and could tell he wasn't going without a fight!
He hissed, scratched, wriggled like a son of a biscuit eater and I held him tightly. It wasn't until I was picking him up off the ground that he managed to squirm free of my grasp!
"NO!" I exclaimed, and took off down the hall after him. FUCK your no running rules.
"You almost had him!" Francis yelled after me.
Not good enough.
I chased him and watched him skid across the shiny floors every scurry of the way. I followed him until I watched him to his hidey-hole.
There, ladies and gentlemen. Is where I shall catch him tonight.
But here in lies the question... do I try and keep Mister Bigglesworth and tame him to be brothers at mi casa? Or do I let him out the back door? HELP!
Side note - the name wasn't my idea. It was the name one of the housemen gave him when he suggested I could keep the cat and name him something redonkulous.
He's a blonde little ginger baby with green eyes. After much debate on a proper name, it became one he grew into- Bacon Shaymus Thibodeaux.
Yes. I know it's SHAMEUSE but I tend to not spell things correctly on purpose because it's unique and you will LIKE IT!
So Bacon started out as a meek baby... and I don't know if it's because his owner has rubbed off on him or if it's because all kittens are loons... but he's fucking nuts. He gets into things I didn't know could be gotten into.
He likes wires.
And curtains.
And beds you can crawl IN to the frame of.
And likes it when I chase him about the house.
He's fucking nuts. And I got him because I felt lonely. I am no longer lonely, I will have you know. Just busy. With Bacon.
But this story isn't about mister Shaymus. Oh no. It's about his long lost brother, Mister Bigglesworth.
Three days ago, there was word that a cat got into the housekeeping storage room of the hotel that I work at. Without further detail I said, "I'll catch that cat." Many disbelievers said they'd been trying to catch it for a couple days without luck. Said it was wild and wouldn't come to anyone. Shun the non-believers, Charlie. Shun.
Last night, about 4:30am when I was turning in some paperwork to the downstairs office mid-shift, I decided to hang out in the break room a few minutes. I don't know what posessed me to do this, I never hang out in the break room. But there I was last night. And I heard it. The gurgled meow of a hungry kitty.
I peered out the break room, and caught a glimps of a black paw going down a seperate hallway. One opposite the storage room he'd been hiding- and also a hallway I knew came to a dead end. I snuck after the shadow down the long hallway. It lead to where the bellboys stored their luggage carts, but I knew at this time all doors would be shut. I reached the end and found nothing.
DUB TEE EFF MATE?
But I heard a rustling from behind me- five old people power chairs stashed in a corner. I saw his eyes gleam at me. "Gotcha." I said smiling at him.
I moved the power chairs one by one, until I was right in front of the one in the corner he was hiding in. Just then, the manager of Environmental Services walked out of a door from back up the hallway. "Francis!" I called to him.
"The cat! Can you move this chair so I can catch him if he tries to run?"
"Yeah sure! I can't believe it. How did he get all the way over here?"
"He was hungry."
He moved the chair forward and -FLOOOSH-
there goes the BABY!!
Yes the baby! He wasn't much bigger than the little asshole I had at home! He was just black with a white snout and white toes and a fluffy black tail! (My friend Squats might say this was the long lost Bootsie) I held him by his middle and could tell he wasn't going without a fight!
He hissed, scratched, wriggled like a son of a biscuit eater and I held him tightly. It wasn't until I was picking him up off the ground that he managed to squirm free of my grasp!
"NO!" I exclaimed, and took off down the hall after him. FUCK your no running rules.
"You almost had him!" Francis yelled after me.
Not good enough.
I chased him and watched him skid across the shiny floors every scurry of the way. I followed him until I watched him to his hidey-hole.
There, ladies and gentlemen. Is where I shall catch him tonight.
But here in lies the question... do I try and keep Mister Bigglesworth and tame him to be brothers at mi casa? Or do I let him out the back door? HELP!
Side note - the name wasn't my idea. It was the name one of the housemen gave him when he suggested I could keep the cat and name him something redonkulous.
Kept that little pest...but im not a cat person.....please dont be a ginger with 20 cats
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