However, the cat that steals my heart and I mean really steals it, is baby Deanzo. I love him. He's this little white furball that I am glad to come home to everyday. He follows me around, answers (9 times out of 10) when I beckon him and he's always DTC (down-to-cuddle).
However, on a sadder note, Deanzo is retarded. I mean REALLY retarded. I've noticed he's a lot slower than the other cats. So, I took him to the vet. Had all sorts of test done on him... the last being a kitty brain scan. Homeboy has neurological damage from stress to the brain. The back story on this is that my friend's boyfriend got Deanzo (named Dean James back then) from PetSmart; this boyfriend also had a pug puppy that used Deanzo as his personal chew toy. To make a long story short, I cat-napped Deanzo (wrong on so many levels, but so right). This guy wanted to put dynamite up this cat's ass on NYE. I did a liberty and stole him and it is a decision I will never regret.
Well, bottom line is that I love Deanzo and he loves me. Apparently so much so that when cats are outdoor kitties, they run around and if they love their owners enough, they will bring them presents (dead mice and such). Being as I am not about to let me precious furry friends tramp around outside (I'd worry way too much about their well-being and Blue Diamond is a raging hot mess), I keep them indoors in a climate controlled environment. Since little baby Deanzo doesn't have access to the elements and other rodents, he brings me stuffed animals, oven mits, and my roommates slipper. It's hilarious. Karlee's son even thought I stole his stuffed penguin, which she said, "No, Jessica didn't, Deanzo did."
There have always been random items in my room and I had no idea how they got there. For example, I was in bed the other day and I roll over and there is a little stuffed tiger on my bed. This morning, Karlee's slipper was at the foot of my bed. Tomorrow, Kristi's "Hello Kitty" oven mit will show up at my threshold.
How do I know it's Deanzo? I wish I was home more often, cause the image in my mind is precious. Apparently, he sees the said item (sacrifice), eyeballs it for a while, goes up and teases it, then places it in his mouth, then he waddles up the stairs with said gift, meows at the top of his little, kitty lungs and finally presents the goods to my room. Isn't that beyond cute? I don't know why he doesn't do this when I am home. Maybe it's my reward for slaving all day...
I know I am not fancy on kids and the last thing on earth I ever want to be is a Mom, but Deanzo is my baby and I am his mother. He melts my heart and has healed it so many times. I love him more than anything, even when I scoopin' his nastiness out of the litter box. He's the best. My other cats only love me when they want something, specifically food.
Yes, this is a blog about my cat, but I fuckin' love him and I know that if he read this he'd melt inside, too. He'd also probably get me the burrito I always ask him to get for me and he's probably leave all of those random presents for me.
I am destined to be a crazy, cat lady, but I don't mind so much. I just feel bad for all the other cats out there. They are nowhere near as pimp as my little low IQ reason for living!
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