Oh nuts.

About 6 months ago, we decided that the best way to swerve the mouse issue into our favor was to acquire the services of a feline hit-beast. So one day, while I was at Wal-Mart I noticed a man giving away kittens in the parking lot. deciding that this was a good opportunity to hire said hit-beast, I called Roxann and she promptly drove herself and the kids down to help me select our murder-machine. The gentleman had 3 cats left - 2 boys and 1 girl. Roxy and I decided that the girl cat would be the best decision - mostly because male cats usually start to spray at some point during or after kitty puberty. We selected our cat. We asked the man for the girl-cat. So we trotted into the store to gather our supplies. Pink food dishes - check. Pink collar - check. Pink bed - check. We took our little bundle of joy (and sharp appendages) home for training, and of course love. The children named her Princess Truffle von Spaz - I called her cat. At any rate we brought our cat home and the bonding began. We affixed her collar but soon found out that she was just too small. So we had to wait a couple of months for her to grow up. The cat's upbringing was awesome. There were good times and bad; blood and tears; scratching and biting. And now our cat is getting larger and more grown-up.

So here is where it gets weird. The week that Danny and Sharel were in town, Roxann brought something to my attention. It seems that our cat was having an inappropriate relationship with a stuffed monkey. Rox brought me over to look and what I saw was our cat, biting the head of the monkey while furiously working the tail end. "Is that normal for girl cats?" Roxann asked me. I wasn't really sure, but I did remember that growing up we had two girl dogs that would regularly enjoy the company of pillows or teddy bears. I relayed this information to Roxann who by that time was yanking the cat's first love from her paws and sternly reprimanding the cat. From there we didn't think anything else of it. Until...

Friday evening Roxann came to me, cat in hand, and began to relay the most disturbing thing to me. For the sake of the readers, I will only say that Roxy had seen the cat get excited. Then the question came about whether girl cats get excited or not. Again, I wasn't sure. So Roxann held the cat up while I grabbed her 2 rear legs. As I began to pull them apart, I saw it. Or them. Two kitty testicles resting snugly beneath the kitty's hindquarters.

In my defense, I am not a vetranarian. I am not a farmer, and I have definately not spent that much time looking at cat crotches. But now, I feel betrayed. I feel like Luke when he found out that Vader was his father. I can't even look my cat in the face anymore. I bought her him a blue collar and he promptly went into the yard and lost it. I am so confused. The kids now want to rename the cat Gryffindor. Roxann has decided that Truffle still works. I want to name it Hillary Swank.

-Spencer