The Biggest, Grandest Freakazoid Feline That Ever Lived: Say hello To......

Bo, of course!

Presuming you have read my blog, you know all about Bo, mostly. If you don't know the basics, go to the September 2011 section in the archive first.

Now that you've read that, let me tell you how we got Bo(and Molly, for that matter.).

Molly and Bo are brother and sister, five years old, and this being a a home for defective pets, of course they're 'mutt' cats. We got them summer of 2007 after our beloved tabby cat Belle died tragically in the crawlspace. We were looking for a kitten to replace her, and Mom thought to look on Freecycle, so we wouldn't have to pay, of course! And she found an ad for 3-week-old kittens. The breeder was an accidental 'backyard breeder'(meaning she doesn't do it professionally for money)---her female cat wasn't spayed at one year old because she  "didn't know they could have kittens that young!" So we were looking and looking, and we loved Molly but Bo was the only male in a litter of four kittens, and splitting up siblings is so cruel, and so....yup, you guessed it, Molly and Bo both came home. They were absolutely adorable as kittens, with short little tabby--striped tails,big green eyes, and each with a unique pattern of black patches, which are also tabby striped.
They were also extremely crazy, and would run around pouncing on everything from dust balls to jingle bells, climb couches, hide in cabinets, sit on papers, and even at that tender age of one month, Bo somehow managed to scale the door to my parents' bedroom and sit balanced on the top(I'm NOT kidding.). Perhaps one of their most annoying antics was attacking our feet under the blankets when we would go to sleep.

Now Bo's most recent oddity is becoming a hermit. No, not a crab, he will just hide under the blankets in either my or my parents' bed and sleep there for days. No, he's not sick, just really, really lazy? The main problems with this operation are that  a) He gets fleas in my sheets, and b) I sometimes end up sitting on him.
Eventually he'll come downstairs to use the litter box, grab some food, and slurp a drink of water before creeping back up to his lair, but only about every three days. WTF?? So, living with Bo, the main question in my life has become, "What the ______ is wrong with this cat?"