Bubba's Home.

For a depressed woman, I'm pretty happy.  I made a sure-to-please "cute" video blog of Ron and his baby.  I made Ron lock up his baby, so Bubba could have free run of the house - like he USED to, before someone made a rescue.

Bubba, delighted with his freedom, is lying happily by my foot.  Lying by my foot is his love language, along with lying beside me in bed.  Either way, I'm always happy to see him  He's been around though some of the worst times of my life.

Years ago, Ron had a blackout drinking grain alcohol.  He broke a glass lamp and tried to walk on the broken glass.  I stopped him, but he objected.  As we grappled, I kept thinking about his head injury and debating how to stop him, without harming him.

I chose a sneaker with a flexible sole and smacked him over the head with it, until he left me alone.  Then I called my aunt and uncle for an "extraction".

Doesn't sound very nice or funny, does it?

Bubba witnessed the whole incident, and the fact that I left home for nearly a week.  While I was gone, he went and caught a rat, and hid the dead rat behind Ron's dresser!  Oh, the stench, the stench was apocalyptic.  We were both gagging for days, until Ron found it.  He also brought Ron a live toad the next day.

So, Bubba and I understand each other VERY well.  He doesn't have to be a lap baby, I am honored he comes home to me at all.  I'm thrilled he comes over to stand by my chair, for petting, all on his terms.  No matter my mood, I'm always thrilled, touched, and delighted, when he deigns to sleep with me.  I'm sure I smell bad to a cat, but he doesn't mind, and he often sleeps in my bed when I'm gone.

One of the highlights of my day, every day, is hearing the click-click of the pet door and shouting "Ron, Bubba's home!"

If the kitten is causing him annoyance, you can bet I will put her in Ron's room until my Boy is ready to leave.