Day #51: Fur-Babies

While looking for inspiration for today's post, I realized...I take a lot of pictures of my dog sleeping.

 It's funny how pets become part of your family. Each of my animals have a personality. Abbey, the dog, is really...dumb. But she is cute and lovable. She loves to sleep on the couch with us. She sits and stares intently while you eat. She barks at herself in the window. She will run up to giant dogs, barking like she's going to eat them and then lick them to death. She cuddles with cats. She eats cat poop.

 Will has a very strong personality. He is my cuddle buddy. However, my dad also nicknamed him the devil cat. When he wants something. He wants it NOW. If he is hungry and I haven't fed him, he will throw "Will fits". He will go into the kitchen and slam the cupboard doors. Or he will

 jump on the counter and knock stuff off. Or he will find a plastic bag or paper and walk on it to make noise. When he wants his food, he's not messing around. When I wake up in the morning, he knows it's time for food, so he will follow me around the house and meow at me until I physically put food in his dish. He doesn't like to get his whiskers wet, so he knocks the water out of the dish and licks the water. He talks to squirrels. He sits in the window and makes "click" sounds at birds and squirrels.

Last night, Bob gave him a piece of paracord to play with and he somehow tangled it around his mid-section AND around a metal candelabra I had on my kitchen table. Last night, while relaxing, we suddenly heard MULTIPLE crashes. He jumped off the table, scared the shit out of himself from the noise he made and took off running. Because his string was tied to him AND the candelabra, when he fled down into the basement to run from the noise, he made even more noise while the candelabra crashed and banged the entire way down the stairs, until I finally rescued him. Meanwhile, he scared the crap (literally I think) out of Butterscotch, who ran downstairs to get away from him and then back up when Will went down and hid...until I got home from work today. Weirdos.

There is poor Butterscotch, or "Little Dude" as we call him. He's much smaller than Will, so that's how he got his nickname. He's our baby. He's a little scaredy-cat. I'm pretty sure he has post-traumatic stress disorder after Will's antic's last night. He doesn't meow, he squeaks or squeals. When we first got him, he would roll around in his litter box and fling it like he was playing in a sandbox. He poops more than any other animal I have ever seen. He splashes water out of the water dish...simply to play in it. I can't tell you how many mornings I put on fresh socks and step in water on the floor. He rolls around in the bathtub after someone showers. He's also, a little weirdo.

So, those are my fur-babies! My little weirdos.

Also, head over to my mom's blog here...she's finally blogging again! yay! I love her entry today. It's very vulnerable, but motivating. Love you mom!

And one more thing...A wonderful link-up! Self-love is a wonderful thing. I am a size 22 and I love myself!

This was the best I could do! I suck at picture taking.

Until tomorrow,

Big, beautiful & broke... Chelsea

I published this entry and went to the bathroom, and low and behold, Butterscotch was caught rolling around in the bathtub! Oui.

Caught! Red handed.


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