At 11 o’clock last night I made a horrible realization that I had forgotten to celebrate the cats’ birthday. Granted, I found Ralph on the street and have no idea how old she really is let alone the day of her birth, but I remember Weaz’s quite well because it happened in a laundry basket in my lap. So we decided Ralph would just share that day, too.
That day, I thought, was May 20, 2008, the same as my friend and, at the time of cat birthing, former roommate Jack. But then again, sometimes I can’t quite seem to remember if it occurred on Jack’s birthday or on the day after. At any rate, I panicked, threw a candle in a can of Friskie’s turkey shreds with cheese (their favorite) and hosted an impromptu party in the final hour.
(What kind of mother will this make me? Sigh.)
I was then informed by Adam who was informed by Stew who we can only assume was informed by me at some point that the cats’ birthday is actually 5/21. Today.
So good. There’s that.
When I think about the fact that Weaz is three years old, I die a little bit inside. We think this makes Ralph four since the vet estimated she was barely a year old when she had Weaz. (What kind of world do we live in where 1-year-old street cats are having babies??)
Anyway,good thing cats never die. Otherwise we’d be a fifth of the way through the 15-20 years I assume they will be around.
Stew says he hopes he dies before the cats because he doesn’t want to deal with my grief-stricken, worthless self when they go. But, again, good thing cats never die.
When it’s all said and done, I guess it’s a good thing we celebrated a little early considering the world will end tomorrow and all.
And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… baby pictures.
Yes, Ralph. Forever and ever. Amen.
I love these cats more than most humans I know. I’m not kidding. I’d give them both a kidney. Yeah, I only have two. You see what I’m saying.
Happy birthday, cats. I’m not even embarrassed to say you are my very best friends.