All right! All right! Slowly back away from the monitor. You’re foggin’ up the screen! *chuckle*

Dang, I had no idea that folks would be quite so interested in hearing about how the tiny terrors weaseled their way into my life. If I had known that they would be of such interest, I would have saved the story the last time that I had to tell it. Good thing I know how to type. : )

I’m sure that to some, it does seem odd that a man would have four cats. Considering the long hours that I work, and have worked in the past, it wouldn’t be right to have a canine companion around. No puppy should have to have their paws crossed for more than 12 hours, until I get home.

For those of you that are not familiar with the Clan O’Kitties, allow me to introduce to you the tiny terrors that have made me their humble servant, and wallet. : )

Beser (because she’s one letter short of beserk!), is the youngest of the Clan, but is the one that I have had the longest. Miss Piggy is the mother to Shorty. Nixie was the most recent addition to the clan, having joined the Clan in October 2004. And now, for their stories.

Back in 2001, I worked in the yard at a concrete precast company. On the property, there were a group of strays that one of the employees would feed. That September, the gentleman that fed them asked me if I would be interested in taking one of them home. There was a young kitten that he was afraid wouldn’t make it through the winter. Having lost both my dog and cat in June and July of that year, I was still hurting, and wasn’t quite ready to have a new critter in the house.

As the weather started to turn colder, several people tried to catch the young kitten, but the kitten would have none of it. All attempts to catch her were unsuccessful.

One day, our dispatcher called me over the radio, and asked me to come to the trailer. My first thought was, “What paperwork got screwed up this time?”. As I approached the trailer, the dispatcher stuck his head out the door, pointed to my left, and simply said, “There’s your cat.” My cat? When the hell did that happen!? Looking to my left, there was a little black and white ball of fur on about the only patch of green grass on the whole property.

Getting down on all fours, I started drumming my fingers in the grass. Much to my surprise, she started crawling towards me, rolling over onto her back, and pushing herself towards me. How could anyone possibly say ‘no’ to such cuteness? The challenge was in picking her up, and getting her home.

It’s taken four years, but she’s finally started to mellow out. My furniture, and myself, have the claw marks to show for her wild ways. While she is much less skittish now, and much more affectionate, she’s recently become quite averse to thunderstorms, and heavy rain. She will growl during either occasion, and yet I can still pet her. Go figure.

In late 2002, early 2003, I started contemplating finding a playmate for Beser. It didn’t seem right that she should have to be home alone all day, while I was at work. One day, a friend mentioned that a friend of hers was getting divorced, and needed to find homes for her four cats. She did mention that they were older kitties, but that didn’t phase me. Older kitties need a home too. So one day, I went out to her friend’s house to meet the kitties. The one thing that hadn’t been mentioned to me beforehand was the fact that one pair was a mother/son , and the other was a mother/daughter pair. Well, that certainly put a spin on things. I couldn’t in good conscious break up a family, so brought home Miss Piggy and Shorty.

Needless to say, Beser was NOT pleased! Two cats that were twice her size were now in the house. For over a week, Beser would not come out of my bedroom. I had to move a food and water bowl into my bedroom, as well as a litterbox. It’s taken several years (and not easy ones at that!), but they’ve finally become fairly comfortable with one another.

Lastly, there is Nixie. A friend of mine lived in an old farmhouse that had been converted into apartments, and one of the ‘tenants’ of the barn was Nixie. Whenever I would visit my friend, I would always spend a little time with Nixie. More fur than body, but she was a sweetheart.

Well, in the summer of 2004, my friend asked me if I would like another kitty. Like three wasn’t enough!? *chuckle* Neither her or the other tenant could take Nixie in, because they were both allergic to cats. Nixie was getting up there in age, and they were afraid that Nixie might not make it through many more winters. Especially since she had to compete for her food with the raccoons and skunks that would come into the barn.

I told my friend that if she hadn’t found a home for Nixie by fall, she just might disappear. And by disappear, I meant to my house. Well, fall came, and my friend asked me again about Nixie. I asked her if she had even tried to find a home for Nixie, to which she sheepishly replied, “No”. Why was I not surprised? *chuckle* The owners of the farmhouse had no problem with Nixie being given to someone else. They just wanted to make sure that she was going to a good home. So arrangements were made to pick her up.

At the time, I had been told that Nixie was 12 years old. However, that statement was wrong. As I looked over her veterinary records when I was there to pick her up, I found that she HAD been twelve..........back in 2000! She was sixteen! But to look at her, and interact with her, you would think that she was less than half that age. When she’s playing with a kitty toy at night, it sounds like there’s a hard-hitting game of floor hockey happening in the next room!

With three kitties in the double-digit years, my home has become known as “The ryan Cheney Home for Geriatric Kitties”. *chuckle*

If you had told me five years ago that I would have four kitties commandeering the house, I would have laughed at such a notion. But I’m glad that they are here. With four of them in the house, there are always moments of mischief, entertainment, and cuteness. No matter how bad a day I might have had, I can always count on the Clan to cheer me up. How can I possibly stay in a bad mood, when upon entering the house, all four will find their way to the kitchen to greet me?

So there you have it. The Clan O’ Kitties. My tiny terrors, and trip hazards. : ) And speaking of tiny terrors, Shorty has just taken over my lap. So I must attend to her beckoning. After all, isn’t that what a good servant does? : )