hello Rosalie I've been stalking you as you obviously heard

from: ppx

Isn't that just one of the best Babycat pics? I'm holding her so tight, necessary because she likes that feeling she can escape at all times, her fur is kind of mashed down from its usual puffiness, so you can see how small her head was, she really was a Babycat, real little, and timed, and I never loved any cat like I loved that one, and I thought her brother Buddy would always hold that title. But after he died, it was so empty without him, and she kind of came out of her shell since Buddy wasn't around to do all the PR, we became much closer. She looked a lot like Buddy so she was a perfect comforting companion, It was the depth of sweetness in her personality that won my heart so much. She loved her Daddy, but most important was she KNEW her Daddy loved her and when it started thundering outside, and she'd get scared, she would come get under her Daddy's keyboards because that was THE safest place, even better than a new spot nobody knew about yet. Her whole life, except for 3 trips to the vet, she never ventured any further than 200' from this spot I'm typing in right now, and that one time I did see her 2 doors down the driveway, she was sitting behind Buddy, that was his hangout, she wouldn't have been there at all without Buddy leading the way. She was a cat that would go to the edge of her yard, and no further. She mainly stayed out front, maintaining periodic eye contact with me by being in one of her spots, and me checking up on her. The door was always open though, so she'd frequently come visit me. Buddy was insane. Although he travelled all over the place, he wasn't much interested in anything except what I was doing and what I was eating. That's why I named him Buddy is because he was the most hang out with Daddy zombied out cat I ever saw. Babycat was much more rational with official cat business to attend to outside, things like sitting in a favorite spot and making sure no other animals came in the yard. If they did, she'd come straight to me. She would walk to some spot she usually didn't go to, by a route that can ony be described as completely unusual, and I'd say, "What?" She would pause, perhaps lifting one paw like she's stopped in mid step, I'd say again, "What are you trying to tell me?" Then she would turn and beeline for the front door, looking back to make sure was following. As I approached the door I'd say, "Is there a bad cat in the yard? On the porch she'd freeze and stare in a certain spot. I'd look. Usually I saw nothing... at first. I'd say, "Is there somethign out there Babycat?" She would just stare without moving. I'd keep looking, sometimes for over a minute, but everytime she ever did that, I eventually noticed a small movement and would see an animal looking right back, tensely testing the probe factor of the yard. I'd yell "Beat it!" They usually took off, but not all back down. So I'd start walking straight towards them, they moved then. I'd start yelling as soon as they broke into a run. Sometimes Babycat would go out and assault them while they ran. You know running next to them and rabbit punching with one paw. Babycat was a dedicated rabbit puncher, she could do it faster and more persistently than most cats, but she wouldn't get beligerent unless Daddy was backing her up. Then she kind of did a Jekyll and Hyde personality switch from scaredy cat to aggressive bitch. Sometimes, when we'd drive up to the house, Babycat would chase a neighbor's cat across the path of the car, but instead of slapping the cat, she'd be sweeping the ground with her arms running right behind the cat, scattering the gravel and leaves, making as much racket and chaos as possible. We would die laughing whenever we saw that, her face looked so funny as she ran by showing off. Another thing she used to do is, whenever Mike Taylor would drive up, she'd go out to greet him at his car, she really liked him.



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