My cat's real name is Squee. Short for Squeedunk - which is a word my
father made up. The only thing I've ever found searching squeedunk is
that it's the name of a small company specializing in the production of
hand crafted wood kayaks and secondarily custom birchbark canoes.
Originally I called him Cyclone because of his personality. In the cab
on the way home from the ASPCA where I adopted him, he
clawed/chewed his way out of their pretty sturdy cardboard carrier,
jumped to the top of the front seat, walked across to the driver and
peered into his ear. I'm not sure what the kitten was looking for but
it was pretty clear he was serious about finding it since he used one
eye and then the other. Amazingly, the driver didn't slam on the
brakes or swerve or hit a bus. He just chuckled. Pretty lucky, huh?
Cyclone/Squee was only 5 months at the time and doesn't remember
the incident at all.
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I don't particularly want a blog. But my cat, Cyclone, does. He can't type. I mean, he tries. But all that happens is the keyboard goes crazy repeating the same letter over and over again and then I have to lift him up off the desk. He weighs 23 lbs. I weigh 107. I can't be lifting this cat up every time he wants to type. It'd be too much like exercise. Which I loathe.
