Minnie with Mouse Illustration

Back in 2008 I moved to the other end of the country and adopted my first pet as an actual self-sufficient adult (questionable, but go with it). She was a rescue kitten from the SPCA, named Tweedledum and her sister, Tweedledee, was adopted by my cousin.

Regrettably, the name didn’t stick. Sorry to all those Lewis Carroll fans out there shaking your fists at me. Instead, she was renamed and became the cute, lovable, irritating, painful hellcat we know as Minnie. Minnie is a wee bitch, but we love her so.

Going on like, I don’t know, probably 13 years or something now, she’s pretty damn old. I’m not sure if cat years work the same as dog years but if they do she’s really really bloody old. She’s like 95 or something, and she still tries to stab your toes when you walk past her under the bed, still skis across the rug inside of paper bags, and can be seen at any particular time of day checking the perimeter (read: cleaning paws sitting on the back fence in the sun). She takes up residence wherever I am in the house – on my clean washing on the dining table (who has time to fold, in all seriousness), on the bed in the exact place I want to move my legs any time in the next ten minutes, on my desk probably trying to tap my keyboard as I work, or in my craft room eyeing up the printer paper as it jerks around wondering what it might taste like.

Aaaaaaand so I drew her and it’s whatever. Enjoy!