Thursday, October 25, 2007

Ernie was hand raised

Ernie's mom was a barn cat. Shortly after her litter was born, she was hit and killed by a car. From that moment on, he and the rest of the litter were hand raised. Ernie was the runt of the litter, they didn't think he would make it.
He grew into a large beautiful black cat, with an attitude.

My grandson brought him home New Years night. I was still be awake... Ernie come running to me from the end of the bed, I'm here, I'm here, ain't I cute?
I'm here to fix everything that is wrong...starting with that Chancy woman. If he could have spoke, I'm sure that's what he would have said. Chancy was not impressed with him either.

My grandson had named Ernie on their way home. "Earnhardt"

I believe Ernie thought he was one of us and that we were his people...or pets.
When I was preparing dinner, he would lay on the bar and watch every move I made. When I said, "dinner is ready"...he was the 1st one at the table, only he liked to lay on it and beg for bites. From the time he was a baby kitten, we tried keeping him off the table. It just didn't matter what we did or how many times we removed him, he was right back. We just gave up and would slide him to the other side of the table. Chancy didn't have a problem with not getting on the table...she done her begging from the floor.

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