Dec. 11th, 2004
I just can't say enough about Bert cat, but I will try to highlight some of his more interesting moments from early on in his life.
I got Bert and his three siblings when my uncle's barn burnt down. They managed to save the kittens but the mother barn cat was apparently no longer alive. This was 8 years ago, so I was 15 at the time, thus my angst level weres at their highest. How better to escape the tedium of having no friends and hating the world than raising the kitties on my own. So I did.
When I would feed them (every three hours at first) the other three kittens would go bonkers and mob me for the bottle. Not Bert, the quiet runt of the litter. He'd go venture to a quiet corner and wait til it was his turn, or maybe he just hated the crowd. When it was his turn he'd go into a wild frenzy trying to grab onto something with his claws. These antisocial behaviors were a sign to me that he would be the cat I would keep.
Shortly after he was weened, my mother accidently ran the dishwasher with him in it.
Gosh darn it, I'm not going to fix the page design just cause this one strip is oversized. I'll just never make a multipanel thingy ever again.
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