Libby, as viewed through her new creation, the Mini Blind Peek-a-Boo WindowOkay, since no one will want to know about my day today (sick with stomach flu - who wants to read a blog about that - YUCK), I will post a requested story - The Cat Who Went To Texas, starring Libby Connelly.
"Once upon a time, there was a tiny kitty who was cruelly dropped in a church parking lot on a sweltering summer day with her sister. A royla family of animal lovers happened to be leaving the church lot after service and saw one of the kitties fall from the top of a truck in motion. While the car was still rolling, noble Prince Joshua leaps from the vehicle, runs to rescue kitty #1, lobs it gently to his princess sister in the back seat, and rushes for the second. Kitty #2 was quite fiesty, hissing and scratching at her rescuer, not one bit appreciative of the gesture.
A friendly fellow church-goer witnesses this bit of heroism and asks what we plan to do with the two kitties. I tell her that I will bring them home, only to be sentenced to divorce court on the following day. :^D She offers to take one home and picks Kitty #1. Of course. We exchange phone numbers so we can keep tabs on the sisters. Home we go with Feisty Kitty #2. The princesses in the back seat squabble about who gets to hold the tiny kitty in distress. Until Princess Morgan discovers the vile temper of the rescued kitty. After scratches and bites, she willingly surrenders the prize to Princess Brooke.
Tiny baby LibbyThe young princesses quickly name her Libby, short for Lady Liberty, since she was rescued on July 3. Since Libby was very tiny, about 4-5 weeks old, we put her in the royal bathroom with a tiny litter box and some food. It is discovered by the royal purveyor of animal medicinals that she has enormous blisters on the bottom of her tiny paws from being on the concrete parking lot in the 100+° heat on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Treatment with the appropriate potions quickly follows.
Princess Morgan and Baby LibbyLibby heals of her wounds and Princess Brooke implores His Majesty, King Steve, for Lady Liberty to be made a permanent member of the royal household. Being the wise and loving king he is, (and made soft by tears of the princesses) he aquieses. Princess Brooke set about to thoroughly spoil Libby, and it was thus. So all was peaceful in the kingdom for more than a year. (Okay, maybe not so peaceful, as Lady Liberty found delight in torturing Lady KitKat and Lord Isaiah, the other royal felines.)
Until that terribly day, Princess Brooke's 12th birthday. A royal celebration was in order and the first of the honored guests, Lady Zoe of Tams, arrived. The Queen was doing the royal wash and checked the clothes in the dryer. Finding them still sodden, she closed the dryer door and turned it on. Queen Ginger, Princess Brooke, and Lady Zoe all trek to the lot were, earlier in the week, a ceremonial ground breaking had been held. The ladies collected all manner of cook-out paraphernalia and quickly returned to the castle. Upon our return trip, we see Princess Morgan holding Libby and sobbing hysterically. The Queen and Princess Brooke run to find Libby very warm, panting heavily, and bleeding profusely from her mouth. All manner of wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued and the Queen and her entourage rushed Libby to the vet's.
Upon arrival, Libby's temperature was 107°, only because that was as high as the thermometer went. She was given fluids and steroids and put on an ice pack. She stays the weekend at the vet's office and, although the medical staff doubted her mental capacity after so high a temperature, she seemed to recover without incident. She arrived back home Monday morning to a very grateful Princess Brooke, who was thankful beyond all comprehension that such a big God would answer her lowly prayers for her small kitty.
The Thursday following, the royal family was to take a tour of the Kingdom of Texas, beginning in the great realm of Houston and ending in the humble Palestine for a wedding for the very first Ginger C., royal aunt of King Steve. Princess Brooke, heartbroken to think she must leave her kitty who is still recovering from The Horrible Dryer Incident, begs her royal father to allow Libby to accompany us on our journey. Being the wise and loving king he is, (and made soft by tears of the princesses) he aquieses.
And so it was, on the cold, sunny Sunday morning of the wedding, that we could not find Libby before leaving the hostel (um....I mean hotel). A frantic search of the room is made, looking everywhere, even moving all the furniture in the hostelry. The King and Princess Morgan leave for the wedding without the Queen and Princess Brooke. They continue to search, assisted by the common folk from the Outer Realm of Wisconsin and the humble hostel servants (I mean, hotel staff). The King and Morgan return from the wedding to assist in the search. The King, on his hunt, finds three other kitties among the cactus and tall grass of the surrounding countryside, but no Libby. Sadly, we leave Texas without Lady Liberty.
It was a long, tearful trip back to the castle that Sunday night. Many prayers were said by the Royal Family, as well as friends and family. But, alas, we could stay no longer because the King's presence was required at the hospital. Late Monday night, the phone rang. It was the first Ginger C. calling - the hostel had discovered Lady Liberty! She had been found in the very same hotel room in which we were staying! She had found a lovely hiding spot within the box spring of one of the beds. A poor, weary traveler had the misfortune to rent this room after earlier leaving a nearby hotel in which he was found to share a room with a BAT! So he soon settled his tired head on the mattress and began hearing meowing! He must have felt he was in some Dr. Seuss nightmare: I will not sleep here with a bat, I will not sleep here with a cat....
Libby, the night she was rescued from the hotel by nobel Cousin Jim.
She looks none the worse for wear, does she? The following morning, the royal carriage brought the Queen and both Princesses (this time accompanied by Royal Poodle Abrial for safety reasons ) returned to the noble village of Palestine where Libby was reunited with Princess Brooke, who was once again very grateful and thankful beyond all comprehension that such a big God would answer (again) her lowly prayers for her small kitty.
Lady Liberty was so glad to be home and she vowed to never go to Texas again!
The End!"
8 comments:
I'm saving this blog for a time when my oldest dd is around. She is crazy about animals and would LOVE a kitty of her very own. She's stuck with a guinea pig who is much less satisfying. Ha!
I'll post again after we've read it. I'm so glad you felt well enough to write the story!!
You are such a creative story-teller! I wanted to start a blog, but reading yours is very intimidating. I don't have the creativity OR time/energy to write as much as you do so it wouldn't be very interesting :'( I do enjoy reading yours, though. I'm going to have to share with Chrisitna.
Elen
What is Dr. Seuss doing in a princess fairy tale!? Anyway, I remember this wonderful story from last year, and I got a kick out of the "princess" spin you put on it. I'm sending the link to my dd. This is just a riot, Ginger!
Elen, you are so funny! Creative I am not! Corny, perhaps! Start a blog! It'll be wonderful!
Kristine, I'm glad it gave you a chuckle. Although at the time, it was very unfunny! I felt so incredibly guilty for accidentally drying the cat, then for losing her in Texas. But now that's Libby's okay, I can laugh about it.
Cute, cute kitty pictures and a great story!
This kitty has had quite a life so far. hopefully the next phase of her life will be boring in comparisson! Love the way you made it into a story.
Jodi, I hope the rest of her life is boring, too - and cheaper! LOL!
That is so good. That cat has a wonderful smile and Brooke is her favorite. We found a little gray kitty (about 7 wks old) after we came home from church one Wednesday night. We were walking to the door and heard a loud, but tiny, meow coming from the road (we live out in the country). I thought it might be one of our cats hurt, but there running up to us was a tiny gray kitten. I said to my husband as I am bending down to pick her up,"Can I pick her up?" Well, we took her in the house and she has never been out since. She is two years now. My son says that she is a gift from God which is funny because his name is John, which means "gift from God". He immediately adopted her as his. When I came in the house I said, "Look, John, what we found." She is a Russian gray, I can't imagine why someone would have dumped her.
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