In for a Penny . . .
In keeping with the quickie posts, now I’ll tell you a little bit about our friend, Penny.
I begged Nicky for years, “Can we get a dog? We should get a dog. Can we? Please? How can we live life without a dog? I need a pet. Let’s get a dog, okay?”
Then one day five years ago, I came home from work to find Nicky with a box containing a teeny orange kitten. In utter disbelief, I said, “What is that?” You know, because Nicky was so anti-pet for so many years.
“It’s your new cat. What do you think it is?”
“Oh. For real? Like, to keep?”
“Yeah. So now you can stop bugging me about getting a dog.”
I know Penny is technically a girl’s name – but he’s copper-colored. We debated for weeks what to name him, and at the very last minute – when we had to write his name on the vet paperwork – I just gave up and said, “Fine. Penny. Penny Porkchop Hengel.”
We rarely actually call Penny by his name. More likely it’s: Punkin, Peanut, Pencil, Punkin Head, Twinkie Belly, Carrot Legs, Booger, Poopski, Little Guy, or Buddy.
Penny will eat bugs and lint, drink from the toilet, and lick himself, but he only likes a few “real” foods: tuna, plain Greek yogurt, and cheese popcorn. What a discriminating palate.
Penny is not a lap cat, but he follows us wherever we go. He sleeps at the foot of the bed every night, and makes sure I get up in the morning by knocking everything off the nightstand.
Penny’s favorite things are chasing crumpled paper, jumping between the sheets when we make the bed, playing in the tub after someone takes a shower, and walking back and forth in front of my face when I’m at the computer.
Yes, sometimes I let Penny watch bird and squirrel videos on You Tube. No crazy cat lady comments, please.
Penny is my little shadow, and I can’t imagine our lives without him now.