The Dingledorks

I was going to post about the cats by using an "Iron Chef" type introduction, but I discovered that things that seem really, really funny at 6 am are far less funny and inspired by 6 pm. I'm still going to tell you their Iron Chef names that J and I came up with, though, because that is some Quality Stuff.

This is Iron Chef Hissyfit, Fussyhito Ted:

And this is Iron Chef Dumbass, Crick Dumichi:

Their real names are, of course, Teddy and Cricket. Teddy is nine years old this month. I adopted him from a no-kill animal shelter in Dartmouth, where he was born. His mother was in the adult cat room waiting to be adopted as well, and I visited with her a bit. I noticed that she hissed at a few of the other cats, but didn't think much of it; not all cats are sociable. I later found out, as Teddy grew older, that the easy hissing seemed to be hereditary - hissing is a part of his normal vocalizations, and can mean he is happy or excited as well as angry. It really took me by surprise, as the cat I had most of my life (RIP Pepper) only hissed in extreme circumstances. But that's just Teddy. He's a hissy, fussy boy - but I love him, even if he is a big jerk sometimes.

Cricket is a lovable dumbass. He is seven years old. He was probably dropped on his head as a kitten because, let me tell you, that thing is not bright. He has that loving nature all tabbies seem to have, but it is tempered by a liberal dose of stupid. Every day is a surprise for Cricket. Every day, all day, everything is new. It's kind of sweet, and also a bit annoying - much like Cricket himself. We love him too, even if he will never win a Nobel Prize.

Someday, L will have a kitten of her own, and we are getting a dog as well. But there will always be cats in our house, and even though I could wish Cricket and Teddy would both be more accepting of L, we hope they will be around for a long time to come.