Meet Daryl Dixon

He also goes by Mr. Kitten

The second in a multi-part series that chronicles the lives of the Ott cats.

Kittyboo here again. I left off my last installment telling you that Liz had come home with her birthday present.

Yes, that’s right. Liz got a new kitten for her birthday. Right when they walked in, they let him go, and he basically took over the entire house right then and there. I walked into the room to see what was going on, and that’s when I first saw him. He was an orange tabby mix and as he approached me with his tail straight up in the air, I hissed loudly. He didn’t even acknowledge me and strolled right around me, continuing his tour of the place. I was trying to warn them before it was too late.

He may look cute now, but just wait, I pleaded, he would get really big someday. In spite of my obvious dismay, they didn’t listen to me and he stayed.

Although the animal shelter had already named him Snowball, Liz re-named him Daryl Dixon, after some TV show character. (You got me, I don’t watch it myself.) So, like I said, Daryl was quite the explorer. He was all over the place, and often (the little idiot) got himself stuck on top of shelves and things like that. He was safe in Liz’s room when she was home, but she was always worried about him when she was at school. But Dad Ott worked at home, so he would listen out for him.

Daryl got bored all by himself and would often come into Dad Ott’s office and jump onto his lap and take a nap. They didn’t mean for it to happen, but they kind of got attached to each other. That’s when Dad Ott started calling him Mr. Kitten, and he calls him that until this day.

At Daryl’s first Christmas, he enjoyed the climbing tree that the family put up.

As Daryl continued to grow up, he just sort of became everyone’s cat. He hung out with Liz’s brothers just as often as Liz. At the same time though, the girls in the family decided they needed to stick together. Since Daryl had become the family cat, I decided that I was going to be Liz’s cat. She agreed, and we’ve stayed together ever since. Her bedroom is my bedroom.

Well, in spite of everything, I tried to be nice to Daryl while he was small.

Afterall, he was just a little cat and wanted attention from time to time. I let him curl up next to me for a nap. Just once in a while, mind you.

Otherwise Daryl pretty much slept where he wanted. Sometimes he stayed with Dad Ott, other times with one of the brothers.

Sometimes he found a nice spot in a chair or where ever felt comfortable to him.

One day, he went out into the garage and was making quite a fuss out there, meowing and meowing. Liz opened the door to see what was going on and a small bird flew into the house. Soon it was Liz and Mom Ott making a ruckus. Daryl ran in and kept staring at the bird, which had flown over to the kitchen window. While Daryl just stood there doing nothing (what a dummy!), I quickly jumped up on the counter and with just two swipes of my paw I had the bird down and in my mouth. Easy-peasy!

Now Mom Ott seemed to be mad at me as she was chasing me up the stairs. I liked her and all, but the bird was mine—I caught it fair and square! But she made me drop it, and she took it outside. Daryl always had that attitude that nothing bad ever happens, and it never will. He had no experience outside at all. I showed him a thing or two.

Well, no matter, as expected, Daryl got as big as a tom cat. Every now and then I have to give him a good hiss to remind him that he cannot boss me around. Here he is playing around.

BTW, want to see me playing?

But, it was not long with just the two of us cats (and rabbits) in the house. Another one was soon to join us. But I’ll get into that in my next installment.

Here’s a little preview as to who joined us…

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