When Your Former Pet Goes Big Time
In shameless PR news bizarre animal headlines, the Tampa Bay Rays announced their new mascot this week: DJ Kitty. He’s a black and white feline sporting a backwards hat, a Ray’s jersey and some gold bling around his neck. I thought it was a cute, if a little odd, choice. When my boyfriend saw it he did a total double-take. He was like, “Brig have you seen this?” And I was like, “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” And he was like, “It’s Graham!” And I was like, “OMG!”
Ah, Graham. It’s rare that I’d trash-talk an animal. Especially a cat, since they’re my most favorite ever. But Graham wasn't your run-of-the-mill kitty. He was the cat my sister and I had for just under a year, before we realized that he needed a lot more attention than we could give him - a.k.a he wouldn’t stop peeing all over the apartment and we couldn’t afford to keep buying new stuff.
We thought it might just be a fluke. The first thing Graham peed on was a pair of B’s jeans when he was over one night. He was pissed (haha, I couldn’t resist), made more so by the fact that I was quick to take Graham’s side – “babe, this is his house, he has to assert his dominance in the presence of another male”(okay, time to cut back on the Animal Planet). Luckily, they were an old ugly pair that belonged in the trash anyway, so no harm, no foul, right?
But when Graham started to pee on my stuff (a new pair of rainboots; in my suitcase after I got home from a trip to Syracuse; all over my summer clothes, including my new bathing suit – yeah, still bitter about that one), we figured it was time to asses our options. We contacted the woman we got him from (who was mysteriously mum on the overactive bladder issue) and she was able to coordinate another home for him with a friend in the suburbs where he would have more room, including access to a big yard. It was a tearful goodbye (as annoying as he could be, he was still my lil’ Gramsey-Pants), but I like to think of him running amok and ruining clothes; you know, his favorite pastimes.
Until I heard about Tampa Bay’s announcement, when I realized that he was moonlighting as acut-rate cartoon MLB mascot.
Ah, Graham. It’s rare that I’d trash-talk an animal. Especially a cat, since they’re my most favorite ever. But Graham wasn't your run-of-the-mill kitty. He was the cat my sister and I had for just under a year, before we realized that he needed a lot more attention than we could give him - a.k.a he wouldn’t stop peeing all over the apartment and we couldn’t afford to keep buying new stuff.
We thought it might just be a fluke. The first thing Graham peed on was a pair of B’s jeans when he was over one night. He was pissed (haha, I couldn’t resist), made more so by the fact that I was quick to take Graham’s side – “babe, this is his house, he has to assert his dominance in the presence of another male”(okay, time to cut back on the Animal Planet). Luckily, they were an old ugly pair that belonged in the trash anyway, so no harm, no foul, right?
But when Graham started to pee on my stuff (a new pair of rainboots; in my suitcase after I got home from a trip to Syracuse; all over my summer clothes, including my new bathing suit – yeah, still bitter about that one), we figured it was time to asses our options. We contacted the woman we got him from (who was mysteriously mum on the overactive bladder issue) and she was able to coordinate another home for him with a friend in the suburbs where he would have more room, including access to a big yard. It was a tearful goodbye (as annoying as he could be, he was still my lil’ Gramsey-Pants), but I like to think of him running amok and ruining clothes; you know, his favorite pastimes.
Until I heard about Tampa Bay’s announcement, when I realized that he was moonlighting as a
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