She Wasn't The Cheapest Roommate

[Seventh in a series]

To call BabyDoll a "pet" wasn't fair to her. She was simply my roommate. But oh how expensive she was.

Remember, she was still contraband. And since I was living in an apartment, as usually happens, maintenance happens at the most inopportune times. Thankfully, this particular complex always gave advance warning. Those Banker's Boxes became a common appearance; I even started leaving them in my car so as to keep up appearances.

So whenever the maintenance crew needed to come by, off BabyDoll went for a night or two for vacations. I just always told the boarding place I was going on a trip.

One thing that wasn't expensive as far as BabyDoll was concerned is that she never played with toys. Sure, I bought them for her, but she was never interested in them. Throw a toy that any other cat would love batting around, she'd give me that look that said "Are you serious?"

So I was mightily surprised when, after wadding up a piece of printer paper, and just lobbing it into the middle of the room, that I suddenly heard it hit the floor again and again and again.

BabyDoll did know how to play!

Little pieces of wadded up paper were soon the norm, and BabyDoll had more than enough things to play with.

And one other thing she loved - Q-Tips. With no opposable thumbs, I never had to worry about her putting the swabs in her ears; rather, she would trap them between her paws and rub her face with them. I even caught her once cleaning the goobers from her eyes.

This wasn't a cat.

This was BabyDoll.