The Bean Blog (currently on hiatus)

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

When Drugs Come Between Brothers

I write about my dogs somewhat frequently, but my cats, by and large, haven't made much of an appearance on this blog. It's time to rectify that situation. Here goes. I have two cats. They are brothers, littermates. I took in the three kittens that made up a litter because I felt bad for them. And I had just started dating the Bread Winner, and she likes cats, so I thought I could score some points...and do some other scoring as well...if I had three adorable kittens in my house. (Worked like a charm.) I never really intended to keep the three kittens. Just save them from an animal shelter and then try to find homes for them. Well, I found a home for one of them. But I was stuck with the other two, Sam and Gouda (don't ask). It's been almost six years now. I think they are officially my cats now (or mine and the Bread Winner's).

They were kind of cute, weren't they?

(The ones I still have are the one on the right--Gouda--and the middle one--Sam.)

I can't recommend getting littermates highly enough. As far back as I can remember, I've always had two cats, but they were always gotten as adults at different times. And they just put up with each other. Usually, both cats were not to be found in the same room. Not these two boys. They sleep together constantly. They groom each other. They're very sweet.

Then this past weekend, I bought this cardboard scratching thing, and it came with catnip to encourage the cats to investigate it. I put the catnip on it, per the instructions, and all of a sudden, it was World War III. Gouda looked at Sam and hissed. Ears pinned back, he swatted at his brother in between rubbing his head against the cardboard. When Gouda stumbled away in a drug induced stupor, Sam had his turn. When Gouda approached, he received the same treatment: hissing, physical violence, a low gutteral growl thrown in here and there.

My good, sweet boys! Torn apart by drugs. Such a sad sight.


  • Well, I've heard that drugs'll do that to ya. When good cats go bad it's a sad thing. Tsk, tsk, tsk... ~;^)

    By Blogger foxymama, at 10:53 PM, May 04, 2005  

  • hehe I have two cats that go from tolerating each other, to grooming and cuddling to wanting to kill each other. The older one is almost 2 years old, and the younger is (a little punk ass boy of) about 6 months. He's also a three legger... long story.

    Last night I apparently had bugs crawling out of my head, judging by the attacks I recieved.

    By Blogger Debra, at 5:04 AM, May 05, 2005  

  • I love kitties so much. My little black furball is my pride and joy.

    By Blogger Tim, at 11:29 AM, May 06, 2005  

  • Foxy, Is it wrong that even though the nip brings out the worst in them, I'm still tempted to give them more just for the entertainment value?

    Debra, It's mean, but we actually close the bedroom door to keep the cats out at night. Otherwise they drink my water and pull my curtains out the wall.

    Tim, Cats are a lot easier than dogs. We went away last week for three and a half days, and all we had to do was fill up the food and water bowls. Maybe I should get rid of the dogs and just stick to kitties.

    By Blogger Oz, at 9:28 PM, May 10, 2005  

  • Can't be too wrong... It's sold freely on the open market. As long as a narcotics officer doesn't come knocking on the door... ~;^)

    By Blogger foxymama, at 4:31 PM, May 18, 2005  

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