A Vampire and Base Jumping Cat

There's a new vampire on the prowl.

She lives with a base jumper.

Really.

Everyone who told me cats were low maintenance pets owes me $100.

Pay up.

The Vampire - poor little Manette (aka Sweetums). She's sweet, and cute, and scared of her own shadow. Always has been a shy little scared-y cat. If you come to my house you will not see her - she hides from the world. Little did I know she was really a vampire at heart. She's been cursed with horribly diseased and infected teeth, and lately they've made her extremely sick. I'm told it's genetic, and unless I could find a way to brush her teeth (yeah - like that's REALLY going to happen - you try brushing a cat's teeth and let me know how that works out) she'd eventually need to have them extracted. Eventually came sooner than expected, so I gave in and paid for her oral surgery. They extracted all her teeth except the front fangs (there's actually a legitimate reason why they didn't pull those but I won't bore you anymore than I already have with those details). Now she's forever a vampire.

She doesn't sparkle in the sun.

It's quite funny to watch her now hiss with those fangs. I've yet to capture it on film - you know, vampires don't show up on film. She hides under cover during the day, but once evening comes she's quite the leaping acrobat of energy. And she's always hungry now. Poor thing must have been really hurting.

Now on to the base jumper.

My not-so-little grey tabby cat (Pancho Via, aka Sherlock, aka Nosey) has taken up a new hobby of base jumping - without a parachute.

You think I'm kidding.

I knew it was only a matter of time before he'd hurt himself. Leaping from the top of the fridge, the top of bookshelves, window ledges, etc. He's a cat - there's only so much control I have over him. While when I initially got him he was afraid of his own shadow, he's become fearless and his reckless hobby finally caught up to him.

Four days after turning one into a vampire, I came home to find him limping and meowing painfully. He's a tough cookie so to see him so bad off was not a good sign. I thought for sure he'd broken his front leg, so off we went to the vet - again.

I firmly believe his little stunt, whatever it was, was purely an attention seeking act of stupidity. It worked. Fortunately the leg wasn't broken, but he limped pretty dramatically for about a week. He couldn't even get up and down the stairs. At least for now the base jumping has stopped.

In the interim, the vampire has been flaunting her indestructible immortality just out of reach of the wounded adventurer. She leaps and flies through the air and flicks her tail in his face as often as she can just to rub it in.

He's hamming up the injury and it's working splendidly. I'm such a sucker.

So ends the ridiculous escapade Episode II of my life with felines - the Vamp and Base Jumper.