Biloxi, the cat, takes on a fox - gangsta' style

My name is Biloxi. I know Kirstie has written about me before her in blog. Don’t believe everything you read – she embellishes. A lot. But Evan seems to love her so I choose to tolerate her.

I cannot be contained.

I grew up on the streets of Biloxi, Mississippi. My mama was a 'nip addict. I was a catnip kitten. Times were tough. My life changed forever on that day in January when my soulmate, my idol, Evan Lindsay, walked through the door of the pet store and selected me to be his life buddy – after I crapped in his hand (I was so nervous).

As Ev’s life buddy, I sacrificed my dreams of starring in a Disney movie to follow him around the world in support of his hockey career. We moved quite a bit.  I love that dude, but man, he got traded a lot. I blame Kirstie.

Although I lived in 8 states and 4 countries (including Scotland and England), I never actually went “outside.” That’s when I became known as “bubble boy.”  Kirstie and Evan doted on me, yet attempted to shelter me from the dangers of the outside world. Although I was issued a European union passport, the only memories of Europe I have are from the inside of hotels, apartments, and the dogdamn cat carrier. I didn’t enjoy being “bubbleboy,” but to be honest, it kept me off the streets, off the catnip, and enabled me to have some killer pre-game naps with my life buddy, Ev. Did I mention that I love that dude? There was the London Heathrow “quarantine issue” of 2003, but I don’t particularly like discussing that one. Despite whispers of catnip baggies under my tail, the officials concluded that the quarantine was a result of a failed deworming pill administration. Let’s stick with that story.

This was attached to my "carrier" - great idea, Kirst, like this didn't make the custom's officials want to beat me up...

This is how I saw Europe - awesome trip, guys

Once Ev retired from hockey, we settled down as a fam in Saskatchewan. Things were pretty great until they brought home a dog. A dog?!!! The only dog I kicked it with was the Snoop D O double G.  They called this white fluffball dog “Dundee.” I renamed him “Dumbdee.” This goofball strutted into MY house with his cute little black nose and floppy dumbass ears thinking that he ran MY show. What a dork. Anyways, although Dumbdee needs to be put in his place from time to time, he has grown on me, he occasionally cleans out my litter box (If he's purebred, I'd like to see what a street dog is like!), and he is a part of our family now. Just as Ev and Kirst have done for me, I now feel the need to protect him from the evils of the outside world. He is just a kid, after all. 

Please eat me. I taste sooo good. 

That’s why I knew that I had to take care of Sly. Sly’s the leader of the Fox Gang here at Candle Lake. I noticed that Sly’s been keepin’ an eye on Dumbdee – salivating over him through the patio window in the early mornings – mouth watering as he surely pictured Dumbdee as a marshmallow roasting over a fire. Dumbdee didn’t make matters any better – tilting his huge white fuzzy head with that dorky expressionless face of his. It was only a matter of time before Sly and his gang took Dumbdee down. Something had to be done.

On Saturday morning, while Evan slaved at work and Kirstie left to spend his hard-earned money (she just doesn’t appreciate him like I do), I decided to sneak out and teach Sly a lesson. And boy, did he learn a lesson.

Sly was injured from a bar fight the night before but that didn't stop him from movin' on my crib. 

Check out the vid. Needless to say, we don’t need to worry about Sly returning to the Lindsay residence anytime soon. Just try to contain Bubbleboy.