Last Friday my traveling companion Scott and I drove north to Lafayette, IN for some Tim and Mary time. Tim is my favorite 2nd son and Mary is my favorite 2nd son's wife. :)
Tim has been involved in improvisational comedy since he was a student at Purdue - a 3 year member of the Crazy Monkey's improv group, he missed being funny after graduation and started up another group named Ad Liberation. Unfortunately for me, their shows seem to be mostly scheduled for Friday nights at 7:30, which makes the timing tight for me to get up there after work. However, this last show was 8:30 and all was well. Even had time for Pizza before the show with Mary and her family.
But I digress. This post is really about My Cat Charlie. Since my divorce, Charlie has lived with Tim and Mary. So really, anymore, he's Tim and Mary's cat. But in my heart, he's still mine. And every now and again, when I'm visiting, he remembers me briefly and I feel him sigh and relax when I cuddle him on my shoulder.
Born in the shed to a feral calico cat, he caught a bad cold around 6 weeks. Very friendly, very dumb and very sick, I knew if I didn't claim him as mine and bring him into the house, he'd end up as a dead pile of yard fluff.
So small he fit into my hand when he came into the house, he spent the first few months riding around the house on my shoulder or sleeping on the back of the couch. He also was very fond of curling up for a nap in the small wastebasket by the desk.
Eventually his maleness asserted itself (despite being neutered very early) and it was decided that he needed to become an outside cat, first in the yard he was born in and now in Tim's back yard, his front stoop, the neighbor's front porch and other various spots he's made into his lounging areas.
And I told you all this simply to share two pictures Scott took of Charlie and me last Friday. Charlie is no longer able to fit in my hand. At 25 pounds, Charlie is a Big Cat. But he still likes to cuddle on my shoulder.
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