It's October 29th, Bobby's cativersary! Her actual birthdate is unknown, so I will instead be celebrating the day I adopted her.

Like many great mammals, Bobby had humble beginnings...

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Hot Dog spent the first year (approximately) of her life homeless in the streets of Brooklyn, depending on the kindness of humans and the occasional hapless critter for her meals... While the other members of her cat colony would flee upon seeing two humans and a feisty terrier, Hot Dog was different. She would meow for our attention and gladly accept our scritches. She even let the doggie have a sniff.

We'd see Hot Dog pretty regularly when we'd take the doggie out for walks. She was one of ex boyfriend's friendliest neighbors. Always making great small talk, chatting us up about the weather, the juicy mouse she just ate, the great bowel movement she just had...no topic was too trivial for Hot Dog...

There was a couple of weeks or so where we didn't see Hot Dog. We figured she just busy or something...it turned out we were right...

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I grew up in Florida and never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever have to prepare for a hurricane after moving up north. Turns out, hurricanes followed me up here. Big Bad Bish Sandy was on her way to pwn our city reality show style. I knew what to do: 1) bottled water, 2) nonperishable food, 3) beer, 4) batteries, 5) candles, 6) beer, 7) that cute kitty who you don't want to die? I mean, hurricanes kill humans, so I had no reason to believe that Hot Dog was going to be safe outside. Ex boyfriend already had two furbabies (a cat as well as a dog)...he couldn't take on another, so we thought of a solution: let's just keep Hot Dog inside until the storm blows over.

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We went outside looking for Hot Dog under her favorite cars and bushes. Ex bf found her, but she got away. We went outside a bit later and saw two of ex bf's neighbors also looking for something...could they also have their eye on Hot Dog?

Turned out, Neighbors had Hot Dog's two kittens in custody...well, that explained her temporary disappearance from our lives...she was making babies! Hot Dog lead Neighbors to her kittens, Neighbors took the kittens in their house, but couldn't catch Hot Dog. Neighbors lived in a house with other people who didn't want cats, so Neighbors looked up an animal shelter for Hot Dog and her kittens and were going to drive them there. Ex bf and I exchanged contact info with Neighbors so we could follow up about Hot Dog if we wanted.

Half an hour later, Neighbors called us and told us that the shelter they had looked up didn't exist. Very strange, but WHATEVER, DUDE, THE STORM WAS A-COMIN'! We met up with Neighbors and they brought Hot Dog and her kittens inside to ex bf's bathroom, away from his fur babies.

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"Oh yeah, we've been calling her 'Bobby'" said one of the Neighbors.

...and that's how "Hot Dog" became "Bobby."

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First order of business: de-stinkify Bobby! WOW, smelly kitty was smelly! I lathered up a washcloth and scrubbed Bobby down as she me-howwwwwled...her kittens got a bath, too...

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We brought in some food for Bobby and she practically stepped on her kittens to get to it...this poor girl sure wasn't ready for motherhood...

...but I was...I knew Bobby was mine as soon as I started drying her off after her bath. I felt the pangs of catmomhood taking over.

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After I washed Bobby, she looked stunning. Who knew that this feral kitty had such a gorgeous, shiny coat!

I periodically checked on Bobby and her kittens throughout the night. Bobby was doing just fine, but her kittens...

Ex bf and I pushed the kittens up to Bobby's teats and they seemed to be feeding...

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Turns out, the kittens had been separated from Bobby long enough that they didn't stand a chance. They each died, one by one. Ex bf was horrified. I luckily had handled dead animals before while working in a lab, so picking up the kittens didn't faze me much.

Bobby...erm, didn't seem too bummed about her kittens. Classic Bobby, giving zero fucks...damn, #catlife is rough...

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Amazingly, ex bf's vet was open the day after the storm, so we were able to take Bobby in for her first checkup right away. The doggie had to go in anyway, so all four of us piled into a cab and headed over there.

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Luckily, Bobby was healthy as could be. She didn't even have fleas! The vet admired her shiny coat and friendly demeanor, despite her Bishface...

One year later, and I couldn't be a happier, prouder catmom. I always knew I wanted a kitty someday and I feel so lucky to have found the snuggliest, cutest, yet bishfaciest kitty in the world. Scratch that, Bobby found me. I think you made a good choice, Bobby...I love you so much!

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