What’s in a Name?

I think I told you about Mangey Mucska. Well he is the sickest bag of bones you have ever seen. Covered in mange and fleas with milky, weepy eyes, messy back end… disgusting, pitiful thing, looks like death. Well I couldn’t stand it so I started feeding him. I figured if he was gonna die soon he should do so with a full belly.

It’s amazing how quickly he’s filled out. Poor thing must have been starving. He’s put on a bit of weight, and now he’s up to skinny. His eyes have stopped weeping and are clearing up. He’s starting to clean himself up and is looking whiter. His mange is looking less angry and in some spots he is starting to grow hair again, just in a few days of food. He, of course, lives on our deck now and he’s really pretty smart. He’s learned not to come inside. (I thought we didn’t need fleas in our cabana along with all of the other bugs and creatures.) He knows the word “no”. He’s also learned to accept food from us instead of stealing it or grabbing it. He’s happy to just sit with us and wait until he’s fed. He’s changing from wild cat to happy kitty.

Yesterday, Mange was finishing up his bread and milk when we heard someone calling, “Here Fluffy, Fluffy, Fluffy!” He looked up and made a blurt noise and then finished his brekky. “Fluffy, Fluffy….rude words in Spanish… Fluuuuufffy.” Well Mange aka Fluffy blurted and went over to his owner’s place and had his meager bowl of cat food. Then he came back to our porch for his scritchin’ and a nap.

Hmmmm…… Fuffy? Did not see that coming! Is that how it works here? Well from now on just call me Twiggy. (Twiggy? Hahahah anyone younger than 40 google it! Hahahaha)