Today is Baxter's birthday. He's 11 years old. Happy Birthday! Even my mom called today to wish her first black grandson a happy day. She even sang to him.
Baxter is my cat. I got him when I lived in Tampa. He's been with me for 3 cities, 7 apartments and countless bad situations. He's always been my buddy. Well, he *was* my buddy until Gerald moved in. Bax is now his cat. And since I got pregnant, he's pretty much hated me. He attacks me, bites my ankles, bites my back fat when I'm sitting in a chair, chair dives onto me, ambushes my feet while walking and assorted other annoyances.
Luckily, Bax loves Auden. He lets Auden grab his tail, and pet him hard and pull his whiskers. He doesn't complain, or try to bite, or anything. In fact, he's quite chivalrous about it...I think he understands that Auden's only a baby and doesn't know any better. Also, Bax is a big gay cat and likes males. If Auden was a girl, the story may have been different.
Over the years, Bax has acquired his fair share of nicknames:
Bastard
DrastiCat (because all of his moves were so drastic)
Snackster
Fatster
To me, he's just Bax. Big, fat, black, and gnarly. Happy Birthday, sweetie, may you have 11 more.
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