So, I'm fairly sure no one is going to be able to guess what this blog is about from the title unless they've talked with me in the last 24 hours.
Maybe the best way to explain it would be by showing you a photo.
That's right. We got a cat. FINALLY! And now you're wondering about the title.
Well, we call him Marbles, because that's the name he got from Tails, the shelter in DeKalb/Sycamore where we got him. But his full name is up there in the title. The spelling isn't final, but the name sure as hell is.
See, Robb has always named his cats AND his cars something ridiculous. He had a car named Countess Prunewhip Verbena Von A La Eton. I'm sure I spelled that wrong. And he had a cat named Senorita Juanita Georgina Santina Beaner Bertha Pugsley Priscilla Antoine Scantron O'Brien the Third. Yup.
So...now we've got this one.
Saint Marbles McGillicuddy Otto-Matic Boxcar McGee, Patron Saint of the 2 AM Wake Up Call. That second part is because last night, the first night he was home with us, he sat next to the bed at the aforementioned unglodly hour of the morning and meowed until we invited him up into the bed. And then he laid on my chest and fell asleep. And so did I.
Details: He's twelve years old, front declawed, neutered, and microchipped. He was apparently picked up as a lost stray and donated to Tails so he could have a loving home. And now Robb and I are doing our damnedest to give him just that. He's the sweetest cat, too. The only thing that gives us pause is his current obsession with the front door. He's crazy about us coming and going...and he wants OUT! Silly cat.
So, we're new dads to a cat that, if he were a person, would be 70+ years old. Me-yow!