It’s no secret that I’m the finder of odd things (baggies of diamonds, a child, a can of diet Coke), which, is going to make this story incredibly anti-climactic, so be warned.

I’ve spent the better part of two weeks on the couch, wearing an Aunt Becky shaped groove into my couch, moaning histrionically while my cat watched from a distance, all, “bitch, you be crazy – ain’t nobody here to hear your pitifulness besides me and I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Cats, man, not the most sympathetic of creatures.

I’d thought it was low-grade depression, but no, it turns out that I’ve had the flu, which is my PSA for “GET A FLU SHOT, FOR THE LOVE OF BUTTER.” Being me, I had assorted complications with aforementioned flu, none of which are in the slightest bit interesting (okay, malnutrition is kinda wacky, but that’s neither here nor there).

The one thing that kept me sane was playing online games on my iPad (Monster Pet Shop, you are a cruel, cruel mistress) because I was too full of the histrionic to even attempt sitting up long enough to do anything at my computer, which, if you ask me, is the epitome of pathetic. But that is neither here nor there.

Finally, on Saturday night, after tearing myself away from Tiny Tower,

three-peteI decided that it was high time to get off my ass and take out the garbage which had been silently taunting me for days. It was all, “I need to be taken out and yooooooouuuuu can’t do it. Ha-ha!” and I was all, “We’ll see who’s the bitch now, motherfucker.”

Apparently, the flu makes you weaker than a mosquito in cold weather, because I swear to you, Pranksters, I’ve never had so much trouble taking out the trash in my life, even WITHOUT household appliances attacking me. I had to take a breather on one of the benches overlooking the river before I could even attempt to crawl back into my house and see what online games required my immediate and undivided attention.

It was then that I saw him.

Now, my neighbors are known for walking their house-pets around, especially cats, which has both befuddled and betwixt me, because, well, who wants to take a CAT for a WALK? Mine would be all, “shit bitch, shut your whore mouth,” the moment I tried to strap a dog harness around him (he’s not fat – he’s just big-boned!)(also: he likes Cheesy Poofs)(then again, who doesn’t?). He’d probably sever one of my pesky – yet important – blood vessels before he let me take him outdoors.

But anyway, the sight of my neighbor walking around with a cat isn’t nearly as shocking as it should be.

“Hi,” he said (my neighbor, not the cat). “Are you missing a cat?”

I looked around wondering if this was a code, but before I could respond, the cat began twirling itself around my ankles all, “I love you,” which is a far cry from my own cat, who’s all, “I love being fat.” I looked down at it and realized it didn’t weigh 82,747 pounds, therefore, it was not my cat. Also: it was orange, which my cat is not.

“Um,” I said, still a bit winded and more than a bit weirded out by the cat who was now making sweet love to my calf. “No.”

“This cat,” he explained, “was in my car. I noticed it when I was over at one of those big box stores. I’d bring him in but I have a small baby at home and I don’t know what the cat could do.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I WAS the small baby at my home, and instead looked down at the cat, who had firmly attached itself to my leg like a barnacle. I sighed.

“I can take him in for the weekend,” I agreed, knowing that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t and something happened to the cat. “Then I can see if I can track down his owner.”

The dude smiled, obviously relieved that he’d passed his stalker onto me. The cat, I swear, grinned like the Cheshire Cat as it sprung into my apartment, all, “lookit me, I’m so damn cute.”


I call him Dolomite, rather than “Three-Pete,” which is the name I should’ve given him, in following in my pattern of naming orange cats “Pete.”

Upon further inspection, I realized that Dolomite has been traveling quite a bit – his paws are busted from walking and he’s in dire need of some food and water.

And I’ll nurse him back to health because it’s the right thing to do.

Once, of course, I’m done restocking my Tiny Tower shoe store.


Got any better names for me, Pranksters? I should warn you that my other cat? His name is “Basement Kitty,” or, as I like to call him now that I’ve moved, “Basementless Kitty,” which goes to show you how badly I name animals.

45 thoughts on “Three-Pete

  1. Dude, I have a 30 pound cat, for real! And he smells because he cant get shit off his ass anymore. He is also 21 years old. I am never getting a cat again. Though I think your new one is purrty! (get it PURRty) Ok, that was corny.

    Sorry you had the flu, I was worried about you!

  2. I’m not much better at names. When I was younger I was so good that I named other people’s (already named) pets. “Really, his name is Fluffy? How about Tiberius? BOOM, you’re welcome.” But as I have aged, I have lost touch with that random gift. The first cat I owned (read that FOUND) as an adult, I named Porch Kitty, because that was where she lived. That was supposed to be a temporary name until I happened upon a better one. Porch Kitty came and went, and our current outdoor cat is Porch Kitty The He-Man Sequel.

  3. DUDE!!! I had to check beside me when I saw your photo of your new Pete. He looks EXACTLY like my 19-year-old Baxter. (Had to make sure I didn’t lose someone and he teleported to you ’cause I’m in CT and you’re not so that’s the only way he would have gotten to you.) I’ll text you a pic and you can see. (Don’t know how to put it here or I’d do that). He’s my Twitter icon, too, btw.
    Glad you’re starting to feel some semblance of human.

  4. He looks just like my Dexter! Well, about 10 pounds ago… Dexter wasn’t named by me though, he earned his name in the shelter I got him from. He doesn’t like cats you see, and every time they let him out of solitary confinement he got into a big fight. So anyways, If you name him Dexter you can make all your dreams come true and be living with your TV husband!

    1. What she said…


      Pete is a pretty good name.


      Every ‘Pete” I know is weird.

      Then again…

      That is normal for a cat.

  5. How about Grey Goose?
    Neither of which he is, but the vodka kicks ass.
    And you might need some when the cats tangle, which is inevitable.
    And wouldn’t it be fun if you were all….Grey Goose….Grey Goose, and people thought you were crazy, or even better if they gave you some cause you were calling for it.

    He is damn cute. Don’t think you are getting rid of him anytime soon.

  6. Rusty. You should call him that. My best friend had a wonderful orange cat when we were kids and that was his name. He was so sweet, the girls would dress him up in baby clothes and push him around in a pram.

    Hope you feel better!

  7. How weird is it that you have more than one commenter telling you he looks like a cat they have or used to have named buster? I am the second commenter. I had a beautiful boy kitty named buster, and I loved him very much. I was broken hearted when he passed, and he was my last kitty that I actually cared enough to have in my home.

    I think Pirelli would be an awesome name for him. πŸ™‚

  8. I always wanted to name a pet Rio, but still have not gotten to. I had an orange tabby named Simba, best kitty ever. Died from a car. πŸ™ As others said, you know you’re keeping him forever right?

  9. o m g he is so cute.. I have too many animals… 6 dogs and 3 cats, one of which is named hermes, who will never have wings on his feet since he weighs more than 20 lbs. *my biggest dog is only 14 lbs* lol but I think the aforementioned name BoRoMoFo … Bob for short is the best name ever… except that Dolomite is such and awesome name too.. im dieing from the kitty cuteness now… bye

  10. I think I tweeted you about this, but regardless, the name “The Pompatus of Love” is now available because the previous owner of that name went home to be with Jesus on Thursday night. On the other hand, probably the only two people on the planet who are weird enough to name a cat “The Pompatus of Love” are my dad and my Uncle Jerry.

  11. I’m thinkin’ either Laundry Room Kitty (maybe LaRK) or Dryer Kitty.

    Glad you’re feelin’ better. Baby steps towards your redefining yourself and your new life…I was divorced, alone, and in an apartment at 39, not at all what I had imagined. As hard as it was, it was a necessary kick in the teeth.

  12. I think you should name him 3-Pete and I think you should probably keep him. OR you can call him barnacle. Because that’s a pretty awesome name too and that’s how he swooned you.

  13. My cat’s name is also Basement Kitty! I have another named “Biscuits” because that weird massage thing she does reminds me of someone kneading dough. Needless to say, I’m equally hopeless at naming animals.

  14. There’s nothing like that epic flu that teaches you to remember your flu shot forever after. Why don’t you name him Schotzie. Then he can remind you every year, because he’s clearly not going anywhere. And did anyone else notice that it kinda looks like he’s a second face on top of his face? Like the actors in Lion King, the musical.

  15. Rabbit Stew (it’s from a Fabulous Furry Freak brothers comic in the 70’s). Kind of a take on the Chinese restaurant sign, “We no see your cat. Stop asking.”

  16. I had twin cats that looked just like that – they were named Scrapper and Scruffy. Scruffy was the skinnier of the two, and they lived outdoors when I had a horse and 5 acres living with my folks in highschool. They were the best cats, and lived up to their names. πŸ˜€ Sounds like this might be a good fit for your new guy since he’s been on the streets.
    Glad you did not succumb to the bubonic plague, er, I mean flu. Miss ya girl!

  17. Just call him Cat. He’ll never come when called.
    But it looks like he adopted you. He’ ll never leave unless he finds an easier person with nicer foods.

  18. I have a “Buddy”. He was almost named “Butters” as a throwback to the South Park days. Thank goodness we didnt go there. Your writing is hilarious! Love you! Glad you’re on the mend.

  19. Love the new kitty! I have 15 cats (I am NOT the crazy cat lady! Shut your whore mouth! LOL!). I ended up with most of mine just like you ended up with this little dude. My orange kitties are Chedder, Hobbes, and Mama Kitty. How about Hemingway? Ernest Hemingway had a cat….then you could call him Ernie. Ok, I’m pretty bad at naming cats too. I own a cat named Mouse so don’t be like me! Ha!

  20. Well, my cat is “Pantaloons” and my dog is “Lil’ Miss Meepers” so I am the king of pet names.

    I hereby name this feline “FNU-LNU” (finn-u lynn-u) – it stands for ‘first name unknown’ ‘last name unknown’ – used by police when they pick up someone without id who is crazy.

  21. I have had 3 cats named Bruce. A cat with 6 toes named Sixer. And my orange kitty I got when I had my very first apartment named Hercules. He was the biggest wimp ever! πŸ™‚ So I would love to give you help. But I have none. But I do love the name Dolomite. He is a very pretty kitty.

  22. I just took in a cat that looks just like that a few months ago. I named him Harley since he had a Harley collar on. I’m not very creative.

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