The Cat

Many of you know, or have seen or heard me talk about Simon. Yes, Simon my cat. Probably the biggest cat you'll ever know in real life. If I did believe in reincarnation (which I don't), I would most definitely bet money that Simon was a dog in his other eight lives.  Because, whenever we have company come over, he'll go over and jump up on their legs, and wait for you to scratch his head.  That's only with company. He's such a show off. He hates us. He never, ever does that stuff to me. It's kinda like your kids. You tell someone that they done such and such, and when that person is around them, they never do it. That's Simon. He gets so excited when new people come over. But, all he does to us is attack us. Every once in awhile, he'll leave us a present in the living room. A decapitated mouse. Yeah, nice. Can't remember when I have had such a nice present left.
I do remember one morning, going and getting S.B. up, and bringing her to the living room. And about 10 minutes later, I spotted Jerry laying over in the corner without a head. Nice. I was just thankful that S.B. didn't find that. *yuck* I can only imagine.

Last night, we were sitting on the couch and C. asked me "Momma, I wonder how much longer Simon will live?"  Me, being such the optimist, said "Oh, he'll live until he's 12 or thirteen, maybe longer."
And across the room, I hear a scoff.  "Psh, that cat will be dead in four years. Look how fat he is." Thanks, David!
I gasp and say, "Uh, David, don't say that. He has alot of good years ahead of him."
"No, he don't. I bet his little kitty heart is just working overtime. Can you imagine?  We'll need a kitty defibrillator to keep him going."
So, if anyone knows of a defibrillator that fits a 25lb. cat, let me know.