He lets us live in his house and he lets me feed him and clean his poopie box out several times a week. He doesn't let me brush him cause then he wouldn't be able to leave his dark grey hair ALL over every bed and sofa and chair in the house. We drove him to Fla. and back twice, which gave him a major attitude adjustment.........he used to act like the cat in Pet Semetary (literally). We named him Rocky (after the squirrel, but he's more like the boxer......"ADRIANNE"!). He is 16 now and I'm hoping for a few more good years with him. When he dies I want to get a chocolate lab......but Rocky won't let me have one now! I even said "pretty please"........but he ain't budging on his decision.

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Minds are like parachutes. They only work when they are open.

~Thomas Dewar~