This is Beemer the Cat. He's a wild child. He likes to roam the hood, killing chipmunks and scaring squirrels.
I've never had a cat that wanted to be friends with another cat. First thing in the morning, he's crying to get out the door and over to Dora's house in a big, fat hurry. I look over in that yard and wonder what in the hell those two are up to, and they look back like mind your own business Gladys Kravitz.
Either there's some crazy, wild cat sex going on every day or they're talking about me. I'll never know, but the one thing I'm sure of is that the day you spend two hours writing a story about cats is the day you realize you really need to get a life.