Butter Me Up

A couple of months ago, I was reintroduced to my other “grandson”. He’s sweet, pretty well mannered (as opposed to my other guy) and he’s six years old. His name is Butters. Strange name for a little boy? Look at his picture and you’ll see that it’s not. Actually it is but don’t tell his momma I said that…

                                          

Having a grandcat is pretty much like having a human grandchild. With a few exceptions. I never had to change his diaper…only his litter box. I don’t know which is worse. I never have to feed him. Just dump it in a bowl and he’s good to go. Same with his water. He never cries himself to sleep or has to be told to stay in bed. He doesn’t talk back…well, not really. Ok, he does but all I have to do is hiss at him and he backs off.

Like a human child, I can buy him things. Kitty treats are always welcome. And he loves to play so I can buy him toys, although his favorite thing to play with is a hair tie. Or two. Which he will steal from you if you aren’t careful. Or a plastic bag (he’s not allowed to have those, of course). His favorite actual toy is his little red lobster, which he throws in the air and rubs his cheeks on. Sometimes he just hangs with the lobster…I think he forgets it’s there.

       

As with my human grandchild, Butters expects certain things. Mainly, he wants his evening Yaya time. Every night after Elijah is in bed, it is my time with him. We play with the hair ties, his mousy or…the lobster. And like my time with Elijah, I rarely come away unscathed. I don’t get football injuries or black eyes from wayward elbows. I get scratches and bites. He doesn’t mean to, really he doesn’t. He just gets overly excited.

Butters tends to be a bed hog. As I type this, he is laying in the middle of the bed. Sprawled out leaving little room for me except on the edge. When I mention that he leaves little room, I need to tell you that my guy weighs almost twenty pounds. Yes, he is a large baby.

                                 

He also has a bad attitude at times. No temper tantrums but you do know when he’s not happy with you. Because you get the butt…along with a disgruntled look now and then with tail twitches.

                                  

All in all, I’m quite happy with this addition to my household. It’s not all fun and games with Elijah thinking he’s a toy but I’ve missed having a kitty in my house and occasionally sleeping beside me. Most of all, I have to admit, I’m really happy that Butters brought his mom home to me.