Tuesday, July 21, 2015

TOOTIE


Four years ago next month, I walked into the Animal Humane Society in St. Paul to check out a tiny 8 week old little fuzzball I had seen online named Trapper Joe. 

He was wild and independent and just the tiniest bit crazy and he had the most high pitched manic little squeak purrs. It's safe to say he stole my heart from day 1. 


Four years later, he's still wild and independent and just the littlest bit crazy, but he's also so funny and affectionate. He's a creature of habit, but it's so neat to watch him develop new weird little habits over the years. 

For example...


He's taken to cuddling with Matt before bed (always on a blanket, and always between his legs), but once the lights are out, he'll find his way to my side of the bed. 

In the winter he paws at me until you lift the comforter, crawls underneath, circles once, and lays down. His new summer routine involves meowing until I move into the position he prefers- which is big spoon position with my legs partially tucked up- allowing him to curl into my stomach area. 


Lately in the mornings when I wake up and can't find TJ, I know the first place to look: under my bed. Matt has usually left for work by this point (I sleep in, what can I say) and TJ is curled up under the bed. He usually emerges eventually once I've woken up. 



When I would shower, he used to hop up, pace between the curtains, and sit on the tub. Now? He waits until he hears the water stop, the drain plug lifted, and without fail he's sitting on the sink or the toilet waiting for me to come out. I pop my head out of the shower and he meows. I climb out, put on my robe, lower my head, he gives me one good nuzzle before hopping down and walking away. 



He's always got his nose all up in EVERYTHING you're doing, often annoyingly so- but when I find myself snapping at him I just remember how nice it is to have such an affectionate and loving little guy. If M and I are working on a project (painting, woodwork, staining) that he shouldn't be in the room for, and we kick him out? He sits outside and WAILS. And no, I don't mean "meow" I mean he honest to God just howls and wails. He hates being away from us. He's got the worst case of kitty-FOMO I've ever seen. 



Which means when we come home from a weekend away, or haven't been around a lot at night during the week due to other obligations, he gets so needy. 


Besides marrying M, adopting TJ (or Tootie as I more often call him) was the best decision we ever made. He completes our family in such a big yet understated way. The house just feels warmer with him padding around and being weird.  

Happy 4 year birthday/gotcha day, Toots. You're my furry-best-friend, and I love you to pieces. 

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