Hobo Jungle

[sarge]

...the stuff dreams are made of!

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Dreaming of shotguns, a pug that fetches, and a life of leisure....

Now see, that's some flawless writin', right there, man. What a sly sense of humor. You are cool , ya' know.
And right friendly, too!
Murph
P.S. That cat just exudes good health and joie de vivre. Just look at them tootsies - clean as... a...well....as a cat's meow!

[sarge]

This gives an idea of what a Manx looks like in his traditional form. You gotta be quick to take a picture of ol' Chief, here. He's never still when he's awake; there's malfeasance to be explored!



...a close-coupled, stocky, and powerful critter!

[Rufus T. Firefly]

We had 3 cats at my parent's house.

#1 was a skinny de-clawed black thing that never left the left the house except to do its business, capture the periodic vole which it proudly presented to my mother, and generally make a nuisance of itself. It was my sister's as much as a cat might be owned. The use of the word nuisance is infinitely redundant in that connection,

#2 was a exceptionally nasty old, gray warrior that was missing much of its ears, had substantial scar tissue and just showed up one day as a resident of our yard. Never, ever came into the house and was a dangerous exercise to all in taking to a vet. In fact, just attempting to pick this one up was a risky proposition. Used to sit on the porch and watch it stalk squirrels and catch them. It would disappear for days/weeks and then resurface bearing new healing wounds. And, then it did not.

#3 was a massive (read > 20 lbs) yellow thing that also adopted us (read me). Slept on the hood of my car or in the window box where it could survey its kingdom. Despite out weighing and out sizing the grey by 2:1 the yellow deferred to the grey at all times. Still, the yellow hunted and caught adult rabbits. In the winter, it slept on my bed, woke me up in the morning to do its business outdoors by grabbing a mouthful of my then red mustache and pulling. I believe it might have been related tot he one that killed Hungry Joe in his sleep, It clearly believed that I belonged to it - case in point: when sitting next to my then wife to be on th4e sofa, it would very quickly ascend and deposit itself directly between us, reach out and sink a set of claws into my leg, and proceed to stare her down. Old age finally claimed this one,

We have no cats or dogs or any pets in the house, although I did explore the acquisition of a breeding pair of water monitors once upon a time.......

I suspect that the families of chipmunks that reside in our front gardens will be the closest thing to pets in my household.

[Chief]

Sarge we used to have a little black manx they are a unique cat. We just lost one of our german shepherds(it was trained and went everywhere with my wife). chief

[sarge]

Is it somehow mystically significant that the B&W Manx in the photo goes by "Chief"?

Rufus' stories remind me of Mathew, a large red tomcat of questionable intelligence who came to light in an unusual way. I was perhaps 20, already laid off my first job (with PC), living with my parents and working construction to get back on financial track and back to college. On the job, we were moving a huge pile of scrap drywall with a dumptruck and a D9 Cat. After about three tries at picking up the pile, a red cat came shooting out. He was physically fine but a little addled.

Home he came, where he lived the comfortable life. He was a big cat, and hunting was his pleasure in life. As he grew older, the four-day safaris became fewer and fewer, and the stays in the warmth of the house became permanent. Then one day, while I was home on leave, he went outside and disappeared as cats will do on the approach of death. I missed that cat; it was a somewhat melancholy leave.

The second-to-the-last morning before I had to return to my duties, I looked out the window and there was Mathew, dirty, ragged, a little bloody and not a little triumphant, slowly dragging a freshly taken 3/4 grown woodchuck up the driveway. For those that might not know, a woodchuck is not something a cat usually succeeds in taking. It was his last hunt. He retired to home and hearth, lived comfortably for another three years or so, no doubt regaling the other cats with tales of the Last Big Game Hunt (to their utter boredom, no doubt.)

[Tramp]

It's Friday and I'm buying every cat in the house a beer. Cats like beer, right? If not, the bartender will stand them a whiskey or a whisky. Drink up and cheers!

[2railjon]

I think buying the cat house a round is a splendid idea!

[sarge]

Tramp, Mate:

Flo, Clara, Ginger, and Chief thank you for your kindness. They each promise not to leave a mouse in your sock drawer in return.

A fine weekend to you all!

[Daisy]

Meow from home sweet home

[2railjon]

DaZzzzEe!!!! What a beautiful photo of your place!!!!! Cheers!!!!!!

[The Dirt]

Crap, I'm at work, and I can't see the picture. Glad you're all having a beer, while I'm slaving away.

Anyway, I have a picture for you folks, a brain-teaser, if you would.

There's something very strange in this picture.
Can anybody pick out what it is??

[2railjon]

Lol, Pete! It couldn't be the big furry bear with the shit eating grin,could it?

[MurphOnMillerAve]

That's not Hev, is it, w/ a beard and glasses?

[sarge]

Driving down the middle of the road straddling the yellow, too!

Bet that beard doesn't let the driver get a good seal on his breathing apparatus, either.