I know, with a name like that you would think he would have black fur and look a little like Al Pacino in his younger days. This golden haybag is the northern Italy version, but that's not why he's a feline paisan, or was.
He got the name Vinny because he, like me, likes pasta sauce with parmesan and, any time there's a spaghetti supper, he's first in line. We have other things in common, too, but to think about them would hurt too much.
This photo was taken in better days when the two of us got along and he was not jealously threatening to defrock me. I don't know how it happened, but we became enemies. It's a curious thing, too--at times our intense dislike can turn half-hearted, especially if there's trouble or he's sick. Then, I get worried and forget what all the fuss is about.
Anyway, his last name is Blackwhisker. You can't see it, but he has one black whisker on his left side. I say it's growing out of his little black heart. I don't know what turned him against me, but I suspect it is this blog.
Long time ago, he and I were talking about blogs. He said I should have one. I said he should have one. Well, the one who actually started putting one together was me. I guess he got jealous because I actually went through with it while he was out cattin' around. Now, I get to talk to everybody, am one of the main characters in a book, and he's jealous. Well, la-di-da.
I think I've mentioned the fact that he belongs to Patsy Gubbers, a sweet old lady who has a comb-over to hide thinning hair, wears crazy earrings, and brings me treats. By the way, the one underneath us in the photo--the Siamese--that's Bentley. It's not a very flattering shot of him. He's actually a therapy cat, the sight of him usually more benign.
Getting back to Vinny. What he says and the way he acts is just intolerable. It's just that I've lost my patience with him. You know what really scares me? I heard rumors that if anything ever happened to Patsy, the housekeeper wouldn't mind having another cat and we'd take him in...can you imagine? If there were ever a time to play fast gun with the rosary, this is it. Or, maybe I could start putting mouse offerings on the altar..