Posted by: mrtweeds | February 2, 2009

strange bedfellows

part of my reasoning behind posting more regularly is that all too often i overlook the every day details, and i figured if i tried to push myself into posting during the week pretty soon i’d be desperate enough for topics that i’d be forced to pay attention to the little stuff. and this is the post that proves my point.


if you haven’t already met, may i introduce you to messrs. gatsby and boo radley. even looking at this image makes me roll my eyes, but i must admit, it captures quite a bit of their personalities.

we acquired both boo and gatsby while we were living in new haven, ct. boo is actually a couple of years old than gatsby, but, well, significantly more fragile. poor, tiny, emotionally and physically stunted boo.

he was rescued from a house with about 93 other cats, and let’s just say he wasn’t at the top of the food chain. he was pretty damaged. he still is, but after living with us for about almost 8 years he now lets me pet him when i’m in bed. as long as i don’t make any sudden movements. but he is, as i like to remind everyone within hearing distance, the most aptly named cat ever: he is the feline equivalent to boo radley from “to kill a mockingbird”, right down to the fact that he really only comes out at night (due to an eye injury that makes him not dig the daylight so much).

gatsby, well, his name may not be a perfect fit, but since my loving husband has long since figured out “fatsby” is a good nickname for him, we’ll let that bit go. he was rescued from an unknown (and probably lonely) fate when he was saved from the clutches of a director at the theatre i worked at who wanted to adopted him. luckily the girls who found him (as well as his brother, sisters, and mama) outside their apartment building brought him into the prop shop, he snuggled into a corner on my desk, and went home with me that night. and though he’s younger, gatsby is easily the alpha in the house, routinely beating poor boo up just to prove he can. but despite his innate jerkiness, he’s also a total lap slut and will love you forever if you scratch his head. and yes, he is really fat.

but when i walk in on them cuddling on our bed during the day (always with a look of guilt and a hint of shame in gatsby’s eyes, while boo has his regular look of terror), it does make me smile and remember the reasons i invited these animals into our lives in the first place: because i’m a sucker. okay, and because despite the hairballs, the scratched furniture, the constant danger of falling down the stairs because someone feels the need to wind themselves around my ankles, well…there’s nothing like a sleepy cat and a deep purr to make you happy.

until it’s time to change the litter, anyway.



  1. Oh Gatsby. My friend (and previous roomate) still has Indiana, who is Gatsby’s brother. He’s just as fat. He’s just as friendly.

  2. i was thinking of indie as i wrote this! and i’m glad to hear that he’s just as fat, that way i don’t feel as responsible for the ridiculous proportions of my cat…

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