Dear Hootie

This weekend Jared and I were charged with a young ward. Our friends went out of town and entrusted us with the feeding of Hootie.

Oh Hootie. So fat, so so so fat. Along with being cute and corpulent, Hootie is a bit of a prima donna. Food must be presented on the counter, never on the floor. There must be just the right amount of warm water to create a kitty stew with her dry food, and she has to have a small spoonful of Miralax for, ahem, digestion. All of this was good and well. Feedings were a breeze, then we'd hang out for a bit and I would scrub my arms up to the elbows and skeedaddle out of there.

Saturday I brought Jared along so he could give Hoots the good petting she deserved after dealing with my skittish pats and constant hand washing. Big mistake. Hair comes off of this creature in gobs. In fact, I hypothesis that this cat is not actually obese, but filled with fur like a living stuffed animal.

Within minutes of leaving, Jared was trying to scratch his eye out of his head. We made a stop at a gas station and he retreated to the bathroom. When he emerged his eye was swollen up like Quasimodo. Luckily, I am the allergy queen and have been dealing with swelled eyes and hives since the day I was born.

I seriously can't look at this without cracking up. So sad.At least his curls were extra spry that day.

Suffice to say, I drove us the rest of the way back to the in-laws (only stalled out once thank you very much) and Jared was in an  anti-histamine stupor for much of the afternoon. Hilarious and tragic. On the bright side, I did find his favorite cherry Air-Heads at the gas station, so he could enjoy a treat while looking like Sloth from The Goonies.