Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

When the Saints get behind I do what I always do...grab a beer and keep drinking.

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Well...believe it or not, I saved it in notepad just in case somebody asked. It's a sad story...that's why I was hesitant. Anyway...here goes.


I lived in Gainesville before I moved to WV because of a job change. My oldest son was living at home at the time, and his cat had kittens, and Cali was one of them. She was the only cat that survived from that litter other than the two that were given away and I have no idea of their demise at this time. Her other brother and sister as well as my long time friend, Yeller, were destroyed by a pit-bull that would be released in the neighborhood every now and then...for that very purpose, I speculate.

Anyway, when I left Gainesville and moved to WV, my daughter stayed on in the house in Gainesville, and she kept Cali. Eventually, however, she moved out of the house and into a dorm in Jacksonville, so she left Cali behind and outdoors. The neighbors there fed her, but for about 3 months she was left outside.

We finally went back to Gainesville to prepare the house to be sold, and early one morning after we arrived, I went out into the back yard and tried to call her up. After a few seconds, I heard some rumbling in a wood pile and out she came. She came right to me. If I were a stranger, she would run for 30 minutes before looking back.

We brought Cali all the way to WV in a kennel with our almost grown Siberian Huskie sitting right next to her...for about 17 hours. It's funny, because when I finally got her here, I opened the top of the kennel and she just sat there for about a minute.

It was only a few weeks ago that she had finally gathered the nerve to venture out of her new home and go into the garage to investigate her new surroundings. She found a spot in the wheel well of my truck, and she started sleeping there. Sadly, after she fell asleep in there one day, my wife took off for the store and she was still up in there. We found her down the street.

I found it very ironic that she survived all that, and after all the trouble we went through to get her here...she might have been better off if we would have just left her in Florida.

Oh...btw, FF. She is buried on the side of the house under the Poplar tree.

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

It's a New Orleans Tradition during a Saints Game....

http://beercansrus.com/mcart/images/dixieplaincan1.jpg

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Do you remember the old Jax beer commercials by any chance. My favorite was when the old lady comes in and in a scratchy, old-lady voice, says, "Bartender...bartender!! Get me a Jax beer!"

The bartender, in his old-man tiny voice, says, "Yes, ma'am."

About that time, a very young, sexy looking woman comes up to the bar and in her very sexy voice says, "Bartender...I'll have a Jax beer."

The bartender, in his equally sexy voice, says, "Yes ma'am."...to which the old lady shouts out, "Bartender...you were making fun of me!"

The bartender, again in his old man voice, says, "No, ma'am...I was making fun of her!"

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Yea... I had two that lived to 14 and died of old age.

Don't Miss This Great Story...
We had rabbit that died and all the 10 year old girls held a funeral equipped with a decorated wagon. This decorated wagon was a special item in it's self.

My neighbor (Bruce Katz the TV Weatherman) had just redid his whole garden and it looked great. It was professionally done and must have cost a couple of thousand dollars. It had just won garden of the month and had a brand new sign telling everybody so right in the front yard.

His new flower garden ended up decorating the bunny's funeral wagon. I give credit to the girls. It was a beautiful thing. As the procession took place, I realized what had just happened (I had to ask where the flowers came from). I kept snickering (because it was so funny). It was so cute to watch. The girls called me all kinds of names for laughing and because I was being insensitive. They never did get how cute they were and that this was a special memory that would live forever in my mind.

In any case, Bruce wondered what happened to his beautiful garden. Then he saw the cross sticking in my garden with a load of freshly cut flowers. My doorbell rang and their was a ticked off weatherman ready to rain on my parade.

When I told him what happened, he really didn't seem to mind since the flowers would have died in a day or two. I told him that they went down in a flame of glory assisting the girls with their loss. We still have a good laugh about it.

When the cat died, I made sure the funeral wasn't as elaborate. :D

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Thanks for the memories...I wish you could've found that one I was talking about. Another great one was when the Queen told her butler to do all these things, and then at the end she told him to call her a taxi, so he said, "OK...you're a taxi."

She says, "Thanks!" ...then (beep beep)...puts on her taxi hat and drives away on her throne.

btw...great story, FF.

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

"ok you're a taxi!" LOL. these are killing me.

good stories, yall.

You know I just thought of this: I wonder if cats are big Michael Vick fans.

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

Cats don't care about Vick. You know how I can tell. No Pics. :confused:

Re: The Saints are Killing Me....
 

I can't pass this opportunity...shifting gears here. This reminds me of a story from way back. I had a friend,(believe it or not), let's call him Dwight. I ask him one day..."Hey, you know Hal Fiore?" He says, "No...but I know Ronnie Katz." I'm like...???