Caturday Guest Part II

Yes, Angel's back, complete with rap sheet. Doesn't he look innocent, all asleep up there, as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Lizzy, over at 922Cats, rescued Angel and his five brothers and their admirably prolific mamma. Mamma and young'uns all found good homes thanks to Lizzy and Friends, although Lizzy (who had 922 cats and kittens and really didn't need any more) found herself snookered into keeping Angel and his handsome (if portly) brother AreToo.

Lizzy claims Angel had no whiskers as a kitten, but evidently the portrait above must have been taken after he grew them back. For a "first-whiskers" portrait of Angel, look here.

Angel (and AreToo and the rest) were supposed to have embarked on their careers as Library Cats (what an excellent idea! Reading With Cats! Bet the Japanese do it), but unfortunately some priggish bureaucrat objected on OSHA grounds. Well, we don't know if they're priggish, but anyone who could object to Library Cats must be severely deficient in Good Qualities, is all we have to say.

Then Angel, who had been smuggled into Casa de Lizzy y sus gatos, fell gravely ill. Thanks to Lizzy's tender care and determined nursing, the little devil &mdash Angel, that is &mdash recovered and went on to bedevil the other 922 cats and kittens at Casa de Lizzy.

Angel with one of his victims

For those who are interested, we believe this particular victim did not survive the "Angel-ing."

Angel has Cerebellar hypoplasia, probably because his dear mamma suffered a feline distemper infection while pregnant. The virus crosses the blood-brain barrier in kittens, and damages the fine motor coordination center of the brain, leaving the kitten rather like Charley, here:



Or Angel. Little Mr. Wobble-Butt, as he is also known &mdash though hardly little, any more &mdash defies his disability to define him. "Pah!" he says. "Disability, nuffink!" He proves it by regularly harassing his sister, Cloud the RainDragonPrincess and fellow inhabitant of Casa de Lizzy. Cloud is very little, and Angel is very long, and we have been given to understand that he may interpret Cloud's frequent punches in his nose as an expression of her love for him. Quite NOT the desired effect, eh, Cloud?

Fortunately, Lizzy has supplied Angel with many things to take the place of Cloud as the source of, um, enjoyment:

Angel beats the catnip sock into submission

Lizzy, who has the patience of a St. Francis (yes, we do mean the one from Assisi) offers this definition of Angel:

Angel: The one who settles into the sink, especially when the human is trying to use it (think stockings, contacts, etc.).

Bandicoot used to do that. We tried to cure him of it by watering him, but he enjoyed that so much, he started climbing into the sink and turning the water on himself (the faucet was a simple lever, no he doesn't haz opposable fums) and then, of course, he never turned it off, and we would come home to "art projects" of carefully confettied toilet paper smushed all over the very wet black bathroom floor.

We suspect Lizzy named Angel for those curled spiral "wings" on his sides:



Or perhaps it was in the hopes of his living up to his name:

Angel attempts to smother brother AreToo but is foiled by clever camerawoman

We are reliably informed that Angel also functions as an alternative alarm system for his hoomin (regardless of how much more shuteye she might want). To quote Angel's hoomin:

Late last night, I realized that my alarm clock had - again - gone missing. Probably under the bed, but I'd already taken my contacts out... So I did the thing where you go: Six o'clock, six, six am, six o'clock six o'clock six o'clock, etc. And hope. This morning there was a kitten bouncing around the bed, and when I forced my eyes open, the windows were faintly light. When I made it to the kitchen, it was something like 5:58. Pretty accurate, Angel, but you don't have a snooze alarm...

They're very good about things like that, we notice. Just tell the cats you must be up by six for an early-morning meeting, and see if they don't wake you. Of course, ours usually allow an hour or two for petting and feeding, but hey, if it's four am and you're already up, who's gonna &mdash no, let's be honest: who's gonna be able to go back to sleep?

Angel and the Alarm

Thank you for visiting and guesting, dear little Angel. A very happy Caturday to you, and many thanks to the wonderful hoomin, Lizzy! For more wonderful pictures of all 922, drop by at Lizzy's blog.

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