The Pride and Prejudice Factor

A considerable amount of people wonder why I would put up with Rylie, considering that his usual personality is that of a fuzzy a-hole. While I will admit that his looks are what first attracted me to him -- I do believe the exact exclamation upon seeing kitten!Rylie was "he's PERFECT!" -- we most certainly have a Lizzie/Darcy thing going on.

He likes me well enough, I like him enough to make him my partner in blogging. We just love to antagonise one another it seems. Rylie is also quite aloof and greatly dislikes having his feathers ruffled, and ruffling his feathers is one of my greatest pleasures in life. Rylie and Darcy have similar facial expressions as well, each bridging the amazing extremes of "annoyed" and "PLEASE DIE NOW." Also: I'm pretty sure Mr. Darcy would dig licking yoghurt off spoons and biting armpits. I DEFINITELY got that vibe from the novel and both current, popular film adaptations (his head is TOTALLY on BBC/Colin Firth Darcy). I could also see Rylie wearing frilly blouses and writing in his diary a lot. He would probably compose innumerable emo poems about the darkness of his soul and the idiocy of those around him.

Of course, Rylie and I usually fail to get to the point where his pride is re-evaluated. However, I believe that I can beat him into submission with taunting, yoghurt, catnip, and hugging it out.

My Cat, Rylie

Rylie came to live with me in July of 2006.

Well, that's not exactly true. My phrasing implies he came to live here by choice.

Rylie was abducted from a barn in Ohio that was months away from being torn down. My aunt caught him and my mother shoved him in a large box. A cousin was abducted as well, but this blog is devoted to my life with Rylie and the rest of our family, not to his cousin, Shit Gizmo. The kittens tried valiantly to escape their cardboard prison, thus making a 3½ hour drive last for around 6 hours. After living with Rylie, I am more than certain he was the one leading the charge.

To date, Rylie and I have had a very complicated relationship. Our quarrels generally are the result of him being a curmudgeon and my wanting hug/pet/nuzzle him.

Occasionally I threaten physical violence against him and abandonment. Rylie, despite his act of simplicity, is wise enough to know all of my threats are empty. He, on the other hand, prefers to bluff with affection -- he starts to nuzzle, then a minute later, just as I think he's going to be nice, hauls off and bites me. While purring. He especially likes biting the skin in my armpits -- and I fall for it every time. His tendency to chew my skin leads me to believe that one day I will pass out and, in a hungry panic, he will eat me.

Presently Rylie lives with a motley crew of other animals, most notably the newest addition: Newt(on -- after Sir Isaac!). Newt and Rylie get along fairly well, although Newt's exuberance tends to get on Rylie's nerves. There have been hisses at bathroom sink (and I can't blame Rylie there: Newt's inability to properly get a sink drink is annoying) as well as at the foot of the bed. Because both boys like to follow me, they trip over each other. That tripping inspires Rylie to put on his crappy face.

Aside from Newt, Rylie also lives with a large Golden Retriever named Skye. For the time (read: until I a.)win the lottery, which will be amazing considering I don't play, b.)knock over a bank, c.)get a job that actually pays, or d.) finally find a sugar daddy) we live my mother and her black cat, Zelda.

From time to time there will be peeps and whispers of a new king from the other residents of the house. However, Rylie has made it perfectly clear that this is his domain. It's amazing what grumpy faces will get you in life.