Introducing Little Teddy
My newest adoption and the latest addition to my family.
Cute in a stupid-assed way
As much as I love my kitty companions, I often find myself annoyed with their stupidity. These feelings quickly subside when I remind myself that they are, after all, cats, and cannot be held to unfair human expectations. Like when I catch Jacky licking the residue from the surface of the bathtub, or when he insists on walking in front of me, then stopping every few feet to lie down, causing me to have to step over him—which really wouldn't be all that big of a deal if he didn't panic as soon as I started to step over him, altering his location while I'm mid-step and forcing ME to panic and quickly change course so that I don't step on him.
It's really not all that bad, in fact most of the time it can be downright entertaining. Like when I feed them both a treat, and Bobby appears absolutely clueless for upwards of thirty seconds unless I place the treat where he can specifically see it. My amusement quickly sours into frustration, however, on the not-so-rare occasions when he ultimately fails to find the treat before his brother has time to (a) finish his own treat, and (b) successfully locate and eat Bobby's treat. This is all typically preceded by a brief episode of me frantically pointing at the treat, sensing the urgency of the matter, while repeatedly saying something to the effect of, "it's right there!" (like that helps at all!), all the while Bobby sits dumbfounded, staring at my finger and not in the location it is pointing toward. The three of us have lived together for close to one year now, so I mustn't overlook the possibility that, having learned by now my principles of fairness, this could all be a ruse to get more treats. After all, if Jacky eats his treat, and then scores a second treat by stealing from his brother, then it's only fair for Bobby to have two treats. Such is how the events usually play out during "treat time."
Furthermore, experience has surely taught them that I am either (a) unwise to their clever conspiracy, or (b) not about to punish them for it. In their world, punishment has thus far amounted to being restricted from gaining access to certain parts of the apartment without supervision. This is the case with the bathroom and the closet, where, in both instances, they have proven themselves to be untrustworthy. Since their bathroom time is limited to my bathroom time, they get absurdly excited whenever they hear the bathroom door open, and come running inside like it were third grade recess or something. They even keep a supply of toys in the bathroom to entertain themselves during my extended "seated" sessions (presumably, one can only lick the bathtub for so long before it becomes tedious), and it is perhaps this behavior which I find to be most intriguing. I must be clear in saying that I did not place these toys in the bathroom myself, rather they were brought there by the cats. Since my actions do not forbid them from removing the toys from the bathroom whenever they please, I must conclude that they are either, (a) just as indifferent as I am, regarding the matter, or (b) leaving the toys there purposefully, establishing and maintaining a sort of enticing exclusivity about them. Their "toys," I might add, are seldom the colorful sort that one would expect to come across in the pet aisle of the supermarket, as they don't really prefer those. Maximum pleasure is found instead, in wadded up paper towels, pieces of paper, and plastic bottle caps.
Since it's just me and them in this little apartment of ours, we spend a great deal of time interacting with one another. We sleep together, converse with each other, and I periodically annoy them with the camera… 
Meet The Orphans: Part 1
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Jacky• polydactyl
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Bobby• talks to walls
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Shawn & Jackie Terrorize The Midwest: A Brief
On June 11th I will be departing Tallahassee — before the ass-crack of dawn — with the lovely and incomparable radio.heart.breaker, Jackie A. Together we will embark on a long and frightful journey, deep into the soft, jolly midsection of America known as The Indiana and The Illinois.
While the details of our motives must remain strictly hush-hush, I will try my best to keep my partisans updated as to my well-being during the entire course of my travels. If, however, luck would have it that a hideous fate befalls me, resulting in an abrupt end to all communication or my failure to return to Tallahassee by Sunday, June 17th, it would be good of someone to tend to the little ones.
More to come.
Jack Hemmingway
As it turns out, Jacky is considered a 6/5 polydactyl. Typically, cats have five toes on their forepaws, and four toes on their hindpaws - but Jacky has one extra digit on each of his four paws.
Hemmingway is, as I had suspected, a slang term for this condition, and quite possibly a misnomer as well. Polydactyl is the proper term (as in Polydactyl cat), and the condition is polydactyly (alternatively polydactylism or hyperdactyly/hyperdactylism).
Introductory Man-Cat Play
Today marked Jacky's first attempt at man-cat play, and I am happy to report that he did a fine job. I've tried in the past to engage him, but these prior attempts always ended in failure as he got terribly confused and didn't seem to know how to react. Today's incident involved Jacky on the carpet while I was lying on my bed dangling a red networking cable over the edge, running it along the perimeter.
In other news, Bobby is still meowing at the walls.
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