Let me tell you about Evening

So Evie’s been jealous since Toki got his own post and she didn’t. She’s angry that The Dog shows up here multiple (2) times when she’s only been mentioned once, briefly. Actually, she thinks this entire blog should be about her because she heard about Kitty Drunk Drunk’s and Evie is convinced she’s much prettier and fluffier and softer and sweeter and would be far more lovely to read about and everyone in the world would fall in love with her. She tells me it’s unfair and that this constitutes neglect. She has threatened to call the ASPCA. I’m not too worried about it but I see that her feelings are hurt and I don’t want her to feel unloved, like she’s not getting the same amount of attention as her brother. So here’s the story of Evening.

I did not choose Evening. Gabe did and he chose poorly. She may be softer than a bunny and covered in beauty, but she is also a miscreant, a horrible monster who delights in torturing pretty much everyone. She loves people who are allergic to cats because she can rub against them and make them swell up. She loves to pee on things for the hell of it. Or because she’s angry. Or because she’s making a statement. But mostly, it’s because she feels like it. She’s just a bad cat.

The day we met Evie. This is why Gabe fell in love with her and had to have her. LOOK AT THAT FACE!

We brought the babies home and this one started “shirtling” right away (To Shirtle = my nephew was little and was surprised by the cats perching on our shoulders and in his excitement, he yelled, “THE CAT! IS ON! YOUR….SHIRTLE!” which is shirt and shoulder combined. So when they sit on our shirt and shoulders combined, they are shirtling)

She annoys Gabe to no end, following him around and singing Marceline’s song about fries. She jumps in his lap and furs up all his things, including his beard, and it makes him face-itchy for minutes afterward. She scratches the couch while looking straight at him, mocking him. She does that to me, too, actually.
She also sleeps on my head and does my hair at night which leaves me with a coif that would frighten even Medusa. She doesn’t like to wash so my pillow often smells like dirty cat. And she sheds. She sheds so much that I could probably make a rug every week out of her abandoned hairs.

She was so precious. She really was. Now she’s just a monster.

Evening just jumped into my lap and is reading this. She does not approve and has suggested I write something else, something with “moar truths.” She suggests this with her claws in my thighs so I’m feeling the need to comply.
Evie is the most beautiful cat in the whole world. She is delicate and fragile and everybody loves her. There will never be a more wonderful angel baby sweetheart pie for as long as humanity shall exist. The world is fortunate to be graced by her lovliness. If only we could all have even a modicum of Miss Evening’s perfection, everything would be 1,000% better. Truly, I am a fortunate cat mommy.

Here are more pictures of Evening. Please note how full of beauty she is.

Dear Evie – When you come in from outside covered in the neighbor’s motor oil because you were rolling around in their driveway, you get a bath. You were very lucky there was a sunny place where you could dry off and be fluffy. You are such a nuisance and I will give you more baths just to spite you. With love, Mommy.

Evie is a helpful gardener. She likes us to tell people we grow cat tails. She is an idiot.

“I haz byootee, doosee?” (Translated: Do you see how beautiful I am?)
SO vain. P.S. – she wears things of her own accord. I don’t have to put them on her. I wish I had been abusing her in this picture, but she loves wearing jewelry, so it was fun for her.

Life. It is so hard when peepols are stoopeed.