What a Goober.

(I checked a friend's blog a couple of days ago, only to find that he has deleted it. It made me sad, knowing that the connection was broken, one that might have let me understand him a little better. It also reminded me that I needed to check in.)

We have three cats. We didn't plan to get three, but we have them nonetheless. Our latest addition is Goober, a beautifully fluffy Siamese mix with rust-colored fur and bright blue slightly-crossed eyes (I will find a picture of him to post soon). When we picked him up, I couldn't help but think that this gorgeous cat had been done a disservice with his naming. He looks stately and handsome, more deserving of a TMNT-style* name than "Goober." I was wrong. His name is perfect, but he is... different.

I feel this needs a list. The top five crazy things that this cat does, in no particular order, are:

1. He runs up and down the hallway, crying and jumping like there's a bear behind him
2. He attacks the springy-thingy on the back of the bathroom door, biting it repeatedly
3. He drinks from the sink, and won't leave unless you turn the water on (okay, not crazy. but cute.)
4. He loves being brushed, but bites at the brush as though to remind it who's boss
5. He stalks our Mama-cat, Bella, and likes to watch her in the litter box. Creepy.
   

As I said, he was well-named.

We were only supposed to keep Goober for a short time, a temporary placement until the no-kill shelter could take him in. It seems that Goober had the annoying habit of urinating on his pregnant former owner's laundry. She, in turn, had the habit of hating him. Since the shelter was full at the time, we were asked to take him in. Owning two cats already, we weren't looking for another pet, but we agreed. That was almost a year ago.

I guess we're keeping him. Even though he's a Goober.

* - That's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, for those of you born outside the late 70s-early 80s. Turtle power!