This Is Freaking Me Out!!

I moved to Liberty from Richmond about 18 months ago. Cut my commute to EVERYWHERE ON EARTH by about half. Before I moved, I had this little kitten named Frodo. Appropriatly name because shortly after I adopted him he went on a little "adventure" in the walls of my 115 year old house. Thought I was gonna have to fuck up the walls to get the little meowing bastard out of there before he died and started stinking up the joint. Finally lured him out with an open can of tuna next to the washing machine. Anyway, this is Frodo:



Cute little fucker, aint he? My daughter, young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis just loved him.

Now I probably don't strike most of you as being a pet-kinda-person. And you'd be right. I got kind of a weird history with pets.

EPISODE 1: Back in '92 when I moved back here from NJ, I had an apartment up on the top floor of the Bicycle Club apartments off of Barry Road. I was recently divorced from Mrs Onassis I and living alone, when some acquaintence decided I needed a couple of kittens to keep me company. So they leave 'em in a box on my doorstep. I didn't know what to do with the fuckers, so I put them out on my balcony. I tell myself "Cats aren't stupid. They aren't going to make a 2-3 story leap. They'll be fine! Where they gonna go?" Well, either these cats were stupid, or suicidally depressed at the thought of relying on me to meet their basic needs, or there was a hawk patrolling the neighborhood, or sumpthin', 'cause next morning, the kittens were gone. No little kitty corpses in the bushes (vote democratic) downstairs. They're just gone.

EPISODE 2: When I met the bitch who would someday become Mrs Onassis II, she had a dog. We were going for a jeep ride with the top off one beautiful spring day and I says to her "Let's take Misty with us!" I don't want the dumb mutt jumping out of the jeep at highway speeds, so I put her on a short leash tied to my roll bar with the back seat folded down (the dog, not the gf). That works fine until we stop for gas. Then she jumps out. But the leash is too short. She's hanging off the side of my jeep from the roll bar, legs flailing away with this really surprised look on her face. I have to rush to get her loose before someone calls the SPCA on me for mistreating my girlfriends dog.

EPISODE 3: After me and Mrs Onassis II were married and living in Richmond, a friend asked us to take care of her parokeet, "HD" (Harley Davidson). Tht lasted about a week. Then he managed to escape. We tried to lure him back. We could see his green and yellow ass up in the neighbor's tree. We called for him. But he wouldn't come back. Bye bye, birdie.

EPISODE 4: Then there was the dog we had in Richmond. He was a nice enough dog at one time. But the teenaged foster kid we had liked to "play rough" with him. Get him all worked up. After that, my daughter couldn't go near him because he played too rough and wanted to jump up on her all the time. He was a "ruined dog" and I had to keep him chained up out in the yard all the time. Well, there came a time when I was going to be recovering from surgery and staying with a friend in Blue Springs. I didn't have anyone to take care of the dog. So I figured I'd just let him lose to fend for himself for a few weeks. He'd be fine!! Last I saw of him was the view out the back window of the car as he raced to keep up with us. He couldn't do 65 mph and I never saw him again.

EPISODE 5: Then there was the girlfriend's dog. It was huge. She was moving from a duplex where she could have a dog to one where she couldn't. She just needed someone to keep her dog for a few weeks, until she could make other arrangements. Well, I don't like big dogs, but I do like big boobies and I was crazy about this woman. So I agreed to keep her dog. Rigged up a nice big dog run with aircraft cable and everything. I took great care of that dog because a) the gf was smokin' hot! and b) I knew it was temporary. Woke up one morning and the dog was gone. Collar was still attached to the end of the leash, but the dog was gone. We aren't together anymore. Golly I miss those boobies.

BACK TO THE STORY: OK. As I was saying, I had this little kitten in Richmond named Frodo. My girlfriend (most likely the future Ex Mrs Onassis III, if she plays her cards right!) had recently got herself a little kitten (she named him Ollie...later she accidentilly ran over him in the driveway, called me in hysteria and I had to come dispose of the body). Seeing her play with her kitten hit a soft spot with me and I went and got Frodo. One day, Frodo committed some long forgotten indiscretion so I put him outside. Musta pissed him off because he never came back.

Then I sell the house in Richmond, move to Liberty, rent a wonderful house and I'm here for 18 months.

Then this cat starts showing up and hanging around.

He looks just like Frodo.

My daughter was over this weekend with a friend of hers and they see the cat. She swears it's Frodo. I recognized the markings on his chest, she said that his whiskers and feet are a match too. She tells me a story about a family that moved from California to Texas and their cat tracked them down over 1800 miles and found them!

So, here are pictures of the Frodo that I knew as a kitten in Richmond, and the mysterious cat that has been hanging around my house in the last few weeks. You tell me. Is this the same cat?




This is some spooky shit!

Is it Frodo?

If it is, has he hunted me down out of love, or revenge?

If I let him into the house am I repenting my pet-sins and ensuring my salvation or sealing my doom by giving him the opportunity to knock over a candle and cause some tragic "accident"?