bubba-kittentif.jpg <scanned-in photo from the pre-digital era 1993; It’s scratched but it’d take 10 more hrs. to install P-shop & fix, so deal. Click it to see when the ears were his biggest part.>

Bubba (also known as Lil’ F***er, Fatboy, Bubby, and Godamm It Bubba) is missing and presumed dead.

My stupid little Bubby didn’t come in during the nightly “last call” on Thursday, and it was the 1st night we had a freeze. I checked for him throughout the night to no avail and he wasn’t at the door the next morning. Subsequent searches of the yard have been fruitless.

Now granted, he has/had his nickname for a reason: He was mean, wanted to be petted only when HE wanted it, and only for a limited time that always varied. When he wanted you to stop petting he would turn around and bite you (quickly too). He was just ornery.

He even bit at ME, the hand that fed him (and then swatted him). What else do you call something like that but Li’l F****er?! I always warned people not to pet him but they always did, and then they always got snapped at. I think people would do this to prove THEY would be the one he’d finally like, but it never happened.

There must’ve been a kind side to him but he hid it pretty well. Girl was scared of him because he’d reach out a thwack her for no good reason, and when they passed in the hallway Girl averted her eyes by turning and looking up at the ceiling. It was really pretty funny, if pitiful.

I think he secretly wished he was a dog since she gets so much more attention: When I fed Girl, I had to feed him too. He’d stand by me and meow and lead me to food bowl which usually already had food anyway. But I went through the motions and refilled the bowl.

When Girl went to the door he usually was there too, and they’d run out next to each other, hellbent for leather (whatever that means). She jumped onto the bed, he jumped onto it. When I’d take the dog for a walk Bubba (and Allie) sometimes followed along, if only to the top of the street. I looked like the Animal Whisperer.

He spent the night outside sometimes, but I’m not sure he ever really went anywhere. The backyard is (as you know if you’ve read >3 entries here) a paradise for animals of prey, so why would he ever need to leave?! He acted tough, but how tough can you be when all you’ve caught is m/voles and haven’t ventured much beyond the back yard in suburbia?!

He had a couple of fights with the neighbor cat who comes into my house periodically and picks one with him, but that’s the extent of his life experience fending for himself. He had a great threatening growl, though, and used it a couple of times like when a delivery person came to the door or a new mail carrier.

He would lie on the couch and not move one bit (except his ears) for up to 12 hours at a time. He’d lie on his back and sleep like a dog. But god forbid you should ever touch his ample stomach or he’d —surprise coming— snap at you. You could bomb a small town with that gut he has/had.

When my sister’s dog was over and snapped at him for no reason he literally jumped straight up, like a Halloween cat. It was hilarious actually, but for the subsequent chaos. sortof2.jpg

He watched nature shows on TV, and when he was younger he’d try to find the animals behind the tv after they were off-screen. He even watched other cats on tv (pictured) and tried to grab at them (not pictured but I have witnesses).


Frankly he was just a bastard, but he was my bastard. He usually liked me and would cuddle up to me (on his own terms, of course), and when he wasn’t bugging the crap out of his “sister” Allie the codependent kitty, they would snoogle together, especially on cold nights. They’d do that until he inevitably ruined it by trying to play and she hissed at him and/or ran out of the room, him running after her ’cause he got his chase on.

So now, not only is Bubba missing but Allie has lost her attention-taker. And there’s nothing worse than a co-dependent cat without its primary depender-onner. Now that primary depender-onner is me, and she’s driving me nuts with all her whining. I’ve threatened for years to box her up and send her to my niece who would LOVE to have her, so I sure hope my sister is nice to me, lest she receive an unexpected gift in the mail.

I’ve been saying for years that I wish they’d die already. I know that sounds mean, but even though you know how long they live when you get ’em, it’s still a long time to spend with an annoying animal whose feces you have to clean up and who bites when you pet him.

My only sorrow is that I don’t know if he suffered. I am assuming that he didn’t, since he probably froze to death. He didn’t do cold too well so I’m assuming he didn’t make it, or he was seeking warmth and got lost or something.

I’ll do the usuals when an animal loses you (call Humane Society, animal control, etc.) and who knows? He could just show up again like Allie did after she was missing for 2 months and 1 day. But it’s getting colder and he’s really pretty dumb, so I’m not holding out hope.