So Lucky is our oldest cat. He was almost named Bullet, because he was found by the side of the road, shot by someone who I guess didn't want him sleeping in his hay in the barn any more (Hey, wait, aren't barn cats good for like, keeping the barn mice population under control???) I digress. A wonderful, skilled vet saved his life, but had to leave the bullet in him. You can feel it. Anyway, that was years ago, and Lucky has lived to the ripe age of 13 or 14 (not exactly sure). He is snow white with blue eyes (you can only see him curled up in the picture). He has become a bit senile the past few months, and walks around the house with a dog toy or sock stuffed in his mouth, meaowing, which is muffled, and sounds more like a trumpet. He walks in circles doing this. Is he hiding his babies? His prey? I don't know, but it is the funniest sound, and I love that he does that. He is the crabbiest, loudest, sweetest old man cat here.
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