Sexy Dexy, Devil Kitty

I dearly love my cat, Dexter and Jim outright favors him to both Molly and me. But, I think he might be the devil. Emily agreed to cat-sit him once, (and afterward told me to never ask her again) calls him Devil Kitty. You can read about the incident that caused Emily to give Dexter his nickname here.

I call him Sexy Dexy, Jim calls him D-Bag.

Ever since he was a kitten he has been spoiled rotten. Born into the household of a gay man; who when transferring ownership of Dexter gave us both “healthy food” from Whole Foods and “the ice cream topping” which was Purina from Smith’s. Dexter had it made from the get go. HA! We thought: healthy food and ice cream topping, who does that?

Even though we ditched the two food thing (we stuck with the ice cream topping thank you very much), we can’t help but spoil him. He loves to hang out, loves the dog, and wakes me up by rubbing his very furry and soft face to mine. It is literally the highlight of all of my mornings. But, if I don’t get up within about 15-30 minutes of that adorable face rub, my feet are getting attacked cause he is hungry, damnit.



Dexter in one of his Cute Morning Moments



The neighbors hate him. He is a born rebel, loves the outdoors, has even been hit by a car. He puts the other neighborhood cats in their place and ends up at the vet nearly once a month. He poops in their gardens and eats their cats’ food. He even invites himself in to our neighbors’ homes every once in a while when it is especially cold outside.

Every now and then we keep Dexter’s kitty door locked. When this happens it causes Dexter to go practically farrell. It makes him run around like a mad cat and attack unsuspecting humans and Mollys. Usually it is because he is on antibiotics but sometimes, we just simply forget to unlock it in the mornings. Last week, we had one of those mornings.

Our driveway has a gate at the end of it and when we push it open, it makes a sound that you would expect a metal gate to make. That sound triggers a Pavlovian reaction in Dexter and he comes screaming up the sidewalk from wherever he has been and sits at the doorstep waiting for you to open the door and feed his fat butt. So, you can imagine my surprise when this particular day, Dexter did not show up. I opened the backdoor and there he is, pissed. I went down to feed him and change the laundry only to find a single kitty poop nugget on top of my washer. It was equivalent to a mobster cutting off my pinkie. You know, a warning. I am thinking about entering a Witness Protection Program…

Dexter right before he swipes at my face for daring to take his photo