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Gustavus Pimpalotti

January 19, 2012

Apparently I’m on a roll here with the posts about our animals, so I bring to you our favorite house pet —
Meet Gus, our cat.

I first met Sir Pimpalotti in September of 2001, it was when my husband invited me over to his man cave one evening. He was a grand looking feline, Gussy looked like he belonged in a castle rather than in that apartment complex.

He knew it, too. Gus was a bad ass and a handsome kitty cat. I have been witness to him kicking some serious dog butt – not only kicking dog butt but 😉 other cats butts and even kicking the occasional human butt, too.

Gustavus Pimpalotti. This is the name my husband adorned his best buddy with, for reasons that are clear. Gus is a pimp.

Oh yes Señor Pimpalotti, you were named well, for when the ladies came around to visit my husband or his roommates, Gussy-poo pimped em out. It is something my husband will declare with Gusto (ahem) and pride. Now, however, over ten years later (and a wife, two kids, a man with Alzheimer’s Disease, and three dogs later), Gooser is an old man. We aren’t really sure exactly how old he is, actually. My husband and his ex-girlfriend picked him out at the animal rescue over thirteen years ago, which would make him maybe fifteen years young. He was a full grown adult at the time my hubby picked him out. Although we now brag about the beauty of this fine animal, Gus was, at the time my husband found him, definitely not the pimp we all know and love today. He was actually the worst looking kitty at the pound that day; hair matted down in knots, boogers crusted in his eyes, and he was just looking like crap – since he was probably a stray cat. But Gus had that pizazz and a sparkling personality that the other felines lacked. Gus worked my husband’s ex-girlfriend by sticking his paw out of his cage and he actually touched her arm ever so gently – see – he is Pimpalotti. They brought Gus home that day, and then, even though he got Gus for this other woman, my husband fell in love – Gus even pimped out the head master pimp himself…

So much so that when I met my husband, he had only a dresser, a bed, a recliner couch, and some plastic patio furniture in his apartment. Oh, and a litter box for “da man”. You see, when the relationship with the girl he bought Gus for ended, all my husband wanted was this cat. He told her that she could take all of the furniture and decorations they had bought together under one condition; if he could have Sir Gustavus Pimpalotti.

My man apparently came home later that day, after the girl and her mom moved everything out, and all that was left behind was my husbands clothes, a litter box, and the fabulous felis catus we call Gus. This is the moment that I fell in love with my husband, it was while he was telling me the story of this cat. I knew right then, as I was sitting on a white plastic patio chair, eating a grilled steak that he had prepared for me at the white plastic table, and i was listening to this story, that he was a loving and caring man. I knew, because of this story about Gus, that he would be a good dad and a loyal husband all because of the way he stuck by this furry creature. Then there was the way he would lovingly take him to the pond (on a leash) with a loaf of bread and feed the ducks – but that’s probably a whole other story for y’all. Thank you, Gus for showing me the light inside the man I fell in love with – I thank God that you are gracing our lives…you old Pimpalotti.

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