God bless good friends. When I was younger I was blessed to have some very good friends that didn’t give up on me. Or rather, were extremely annoying. Curtis is one such friend.

Phone rings.

Curtis: Rhett, we are playing street hockey in ten minutes. See you outside.
Rhett: I don’t want to. I am watching cartoons.
Curtis: C’mon.
Rhett: I’ll think about it.

Five minutes pass. Phone rings.

Blair: Rhett, we are playing street hockey.
(Curtis in the background): Tell him we are starting in five minutes.
Rhett: I don’t want to.
Blair: C’mon.
Rhett: I’ll think about it.

Three minutes pass. Phone rings.

Harmony: Rhett, we are playing street hockey.
(Curtis in the background): Tell him we are starting in two minutes.
Rhett: I don’t want to.
Harmony: C’mon.
Rhett: I’ll think about it.

One minute passes. Phone rings. Parents are yelling because the phone keeps ringing.

Brad: Rhett, we are playing street hockey.
(Curtis in the background): Tell him we are starting in one minute.
Rhett: I don’t want to.
Brad: C’mon.
Rhett: Fine! I’ll play.

This is how most things went when I was younger. I was also on the other side of the phone calls, but usually I think it was me. I’m actually pretty sure this is a tactic that Curtis still uses and frankly it works. Both because Curtis is charismatic like that and because now I just know how relentless he can be. Luckily or unluckily for me, I am not in the same city anymore so I only get these calls when we’re within 20KMs of each other.

But, it seems I am continually blessed with new friends just like Curtis. But they are a lot smaller than Curtis. And furry. And meow-y.

JD and Elly have quite a routine, pretty much every morning. First, JD warms up. He knocks our closet doors and meows to alarm us to the fact that he requires food. Then comes the main performance.

He jumps up on the foot of the bed and he’s purring. He’s not purring because he’s happy. He’s not happy. He wants food. JD is purring because he wants to be cute (basically the opposite of his true nature). He’ll walk up my chest, let me pet him a few times (because he fools me into thinking he’s a nice cat) and then run off as to lead me towards his dish (which is regrettably empty). When I don’t follow, he jumps up on our dresser and selectively begins knocking items off. Enter Elly.

Elly, who is naturally the cutest cat on earth, jumps up on our bed and moves toward our head. But Elly is basically a mute. She can make noise, but she doesn’t. Her mouth moves like she’s meowing, but no sound comes out (obviously adding to how cute she is). But there is one thing you must know about Elly. She’s fat and you cannot mess with her food intake. Whereas JD will let you touch him, Elly will avoid it. Elly walks up and around our heads. With Elly you have to pay to play. (Playing, in this case, being the right to touch her.) If you make a slight movement she’ll take off running—also towards the food.

When we ignore Elly she jumps up on the dresser, JD jumps down and the dance begins again and goes on until one of us (read: me) feeds them.