I currently live with three fur-kids, a dog and two cats.
The oldest is Ronan- he’s the big fat black-and-white cat. The next to oldest is my dog Darcy – the blond canine diva. And then my youngest is a gray tabby named Captain Hook.
Ronan came to me in February 2011 a month after my previous cat Jake died. It was the coldest day of the year and I was leaving food outside and a shelter for the colony of feral cats we had living at my apartment complex at the time. I went outside that morning and the cats all scattered except one little black-and-white fellow. I opened the door and he flew into my apartment and jumped on my sofa and burrowed into the blanket there. I wasn’t going to be mean and toss him back outside so I kept him and asked around to see if he belonged to anybody but nada (yes, he’d been dumped on the coldest day of the year). He was about six months old when I got him so he was born around August of 2010. He’s very fat though amazingly agile despite his bulk. Of the three he’s the most reserved though he will sit on my thigh if I’m sitting on the sofa watching tv. I’d say his favorite activities are eating, sleeping, and bird-watching.
Darcy came to me in January 2012 when a very dear friend called me up and asked me if I wanted a dog. I had been thinking about getting one but my original plan was to go to the shelter and adopt a small senior dog. Instead, I got a three-month old puppy who didn’t take canine puberty very well (that’s a whole other story which will be in a book someday). My friend found her on the side of the road out in the middle of freaking nowhere with another dog (we got the other dog adopted out as I didn’t have room for him and neither did my friend). Since I don’t know who Darcy’s mom and dad were anything about her breed is pure speculation. But I call her a collie-retriever mix. She’s got the collie temperament and brains and the retriever nose and size (she weighs seventy pounds now). And I’ve been working with a trainer for over two years teaching her that she can’t eat or bark at any person or dog she don’t like.
Captain Hook is my youngest one. He’s a little gray tabby cat who can be very affectionate but a total pain the butt sometimes (he still has a ton of kitten in him). I got him when he was about two months old and he was the son of a feral cat that lived at the call center I worked at the time. I went out back one afternoon to each my lunch and he literally climbed up my leg (I was wearing jeans thank goodness) to get to the meatloaf sandwich I was eating. I gave him some and afterwards when he was cuddling in my arms when one of my co-worker walked by and noticed he had three kinks in his tail. She said that Captain Hook would be a good name for him. He agreed and I told him if he was waiting outside for me after work that I’d take him home. He was (his mom was about five feet away in the bushes making sure he stayed put). I brought him home and after a couple of days of hissing at him Ronan eventually took him under his paw and taught him the ropes of being a cat. Darcy just saw another cat to play with and Hook doesn’t realize she outweighs him by about sixty pounds or so.