I’ve been sleeping a lot as I recover from surgery, and somewhere in the fogginess of the last week, I woke up and realized that I am now the proud owner of not one but TWO pets.
Our next door neighbors moved and their cat refused to go with them. Their boy cat, named Jevin, who Aubrey refuses to call anything but Samantha, is now our trans-gender cat.
What’s the perfect pet for a family with an obstinate gender-confused cat? A baby bird. My mother, Shuggie, has spent hours trying to find a place to hide the baby bird that Jevin/Samantha cannot reach.
Currently the nameless bird is on a ledge in the carport in an intricately designed lean-to made from shoebox lids, to protect it from the gender bending cat.
When I went to sleep we were petless. And I liked it that way.
Who’s in charge here?
See, we think we need sleep & it's not worth it. Okay, well sometimes…
My first cat was gender-confused. When I adopted Bailey, everyone thought he was a she–even the vet. Apparently, he just had so much fur down there that we couldn't see the appropriate parts. But when we took "her" to have her spayed, the vet cut into "her," but couldn't find the right parts. Then he was neutered. Poor little guy had two surgeries that day. LOL. It took quite some time for all of us to remember that he was a he and not a she. But luckily, I had chosen a name that worked for either gender. We didn't have to change his name. I don't know how easily I would have handled that.
Oh, yeah. By the way. The animals are in charge. Get used to it.