Frank Version 3.0 (i.e. – not Frank 1 or 2 whom I was unable to take home as mentioned in a previous journal entry) came home with me on Friday from the Golden Valley Humane Society:
Awww… whoosha widdo baby kiddy kiddy wow wow meow meow kiddy. He feels rather threatened by his new roommate Beans, a big scary dog that has been known to play with her squeaky toys and eat food – something any cat or human would see and be paralyzed in fear. I reckon it will be another couple of days before Frank realizes she’s harmless and will feel safe leaving his comfort bubble (the closet), but he’s doing better every day. I think.
He’s approx. 1.5 years old and in his old home, his name was “Spreewell”. So far I can tell you that he has a funny voice, eats and shits like it’s going out of style, and is an incredibly friendly, affectionate little feller. He was given up because the daughter in his old home developed allergies by being around him. Their loss, our gain. When Kimb informed me that “Spreewell” is the name of a troublemaking athlete, I felt that if worse comes to worse and he never leaves the closet, at least I saved him from going through life being named after a basketball player. Now he’s named after Mr. Zappa, not to mention when both pets are able to mingle, we’ll have Frank and Beans. If you’ve seen Something About Mary, you know that’s what the mentally retarded brother kept repeating over and over when Ben Stiller zipped his junk in his prom pants. I’m all about the high-brow movie references like that.
In this day and age of technology, almost all animal shelters perform a procedure to all of their orphans referred to as “chipping”. No, it’s not accidentally breaking a small piece of the animal off or throwing potato chips at them. It’s implanting a teeny microchip in the animal so they can be tracked down should they get lost. I fear that this might carry some side effects such as Frank blacking out whenever I use the microwave, my cell phone signal weakening when he’s by me, and him making a rainbow pattern on the TV screen when he walks past it.
I also worry, what if there was a mixup with the microchips and he’s carrying top secret government information around in his little 11 pound body? That would suck, but I guess at least they couldn’t track him down.
But the important thing is he’s found a good home and I found a great cat. I have a feeling he’s going to rule once he gets over this stage fright with the dawg and inspire many future blog entries… as I like to say: “There’s no bad cats, only really stupid neurotic ones that little kids pick out just because they’re cute and furry.” (It’s just a joke, people… just a joke.)
Hopefully I won’t have to do anything to that chip like update its firmware or BIOS. ‘Cause there’s only 1 place I can find wheres the USB cord would plug into him, and I don’t think he’d really want anything plugged into that area, if you know what I’m sayin.