How Nightmare Got His Name - A Christmas Story

I didn't get to doing any stitching yesterday.  After taking mom and her dog to the vet, I was so tired when I got home, I laid down and fell asleep for a few hours.  I woke up when my husband got home from work.  He surprised me with a new, big screen television.  We've been wanting one for years and he's been working his butt off every Saturday for months now.  Well, there was a method to his madness! 

Once he got it all set up, we ordered delivery and watched Christmas Vacation.  That has to be the funniest Christmas movie ever made!

Anyway, back to my Lucy....I talked to my vet yesterday when I was there with mom and yes, he said Lucy did indeed have a stroke.  The reason she was so frightened is that a stroke causes temporary blindness.  She's almost back to normal now.  She's always been a happy, little bouncy kitty.  Not afraid of anything, very independent and very talkative.  She's talking like crazy again.  Huge relief.  Our vet said that she may never have another one.  I sure hope not.

I shared photos of Simba and Lucy yesterday but not my Nightmare.  Did I ever tell you the story of how he got his name?

We adopted him from our vets office when he was only 3 weeks old.  His litter was found on a construction site in Woodstock, Illinois.  One of the construction workers was able to rescue the kittens but not the mother.  He took the kittens to our vets office.

We had taken Garfield in for his shots one night just before Thanksgiving and the receptionist was holding the tiniest little kitten I'd ever seen.  Scott and I adore black cats so we asked if they had a black one and they did.  The next week, I called the girl that handles the adoptions.  Normally, they don't adopt kittens out until they're 6 weeks old but she knew that I would do what was necessary for such a young cat and she let me take him home at 3 weeks.

Anyway, a week or two later, Scott was putting the Christmas tree up, trying to get the lights on it and our tiny kitten, whom we had not chosen a name for yet, kept climbing up the tree.  Scott kept pulling him out and finally, after about the 5th time, Scott said to him, "you are a little nightmare!".  LOL!!!

Well, we looked at each other and both knew at that exact moment, that "nightmare" was the perfect name for our little black kitten.  And Nightmare has lived up to it!

Nightmare is 16 years old now.  He's had a heart problem (cardio myopathy) since he was 1.  You would never know it.  He bounces off the walls and he's always into something!  So far this year, he hasn't tried to climb my tree.

Bubba always says that Nightmare will live to be 25, just out of spite!