Within two weeks of moving here, the pre-Teenage Eating Machine called from The Old Timer in town and told me he was bringing me home a surprise. I could tell from the excitement in his voice it was something that was alive. I was just hoping it wasn’t a snake.

Charcoal grey Smokey Robinson

If only he could sing and make us some money. I’ve had cats most of my life, and Smokey’s the most stand offish of the bunch. He doesn’t want to be picked up or held, but he loves a good scratching – if you use your feet. No hands, please.

Smokey has a box fetish

This cat loves boxes more than he loves us. If there’s a box in sight (empty or full), he’s in it. He’s pretty good with a paper sack, too.

I found one of Smokey’s baby pictures

I have much worse ones than that for the Teenage Eating Machine. Smokey could have survived all on his own out in the wilderness as he’s a hunter extraordinaire. He’s drug mice, birds, lizards, butterflies and even a 2 foot rat snake into this house. And he has no problem chowing down on his prey.

At least now I know how to kill a snake with a garden hoe.

Smokey’s 7 now and has some kidney issues as most neutered male cats do. I should invest in Tidy Cat stock.

At least I don’t have to tell Smokey to take a bath

Smokey also likes to sleep on my feet during the winter. With the Cow Dog, Bed Hog taking up most of the bed and this one of my feet, some nights I don’t get enough sleep.

Nothing like a good cat nap with a friend

Tomorrow you’ll meet the final critter around here and (shh, it’s a secret) he’s may favorite one of the bunch.

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com