For those of you who know me and my hubby, you know we have
a kitty and that we love our furry little girl.
Fuzzums . . . or The Fuzz . . . named so because, ironically
enough, she’s, well, fuzzy.
The Fuzz has some serious ‘tude and is quite a
character. I’ve had cats all my life and
I have never had one with this much personality. She’s a hoot and is truly a wonderful
addition to our family.
The Fuzz has a plethora of toys, a blanket, a bed and . . .
a brick. Yes, you heard me right . . .
a brick. A big, ugly brick . . . and she
loves it.
If you’re wondering how a brick made its way into our
household, my husband stuck it in with one of my Christmas presents last year
so that I wouldn’t be able to guess what it was when I picked it up. And, it never left because the cat
immediately glommed onto it.
She rubs on it, sticks her paws inside it, lies up against
it and generally just hangs out near it.
I understand that it’s cool and it’s rough, so it probably
feels good when she’s lovin’ it. And she
does love it. But, really . . . it’s
just a brick.
She’s funny.
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