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Braveheart Cubby Bear

Picture of Braveheart Cubby Bear, a male Ragdoll

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Home:Palatine, IL  [I have a diary!]  
Sex: Male   Weight: 13 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Braveheart Cubby Bear

Cub, Cub-Cub, Bubby, Bubba, Cubster, Cubalicious, Cubarino, Furious, Gorgeous, Cubs, Little Man, Chubby, Big Kid, Cubber, Cubby Monster, Rocco

Kitty Complexion:
sleepyvery active
not curiousvery curious
not vocalvery vocal

Quick Bio:

October 24th 2002

Seal Point

Stalking Max, interrogating Max, yelling, swearing, extra dry martinis, being brushed, ear scritches, hitting people, bopping Tucker and the Chicago Cubs, although he'd never admit it.

Not being fed on demand. MAX.MAX.MAX.

Favorite Toy:
Feather on a Stick--which recently got eaten by the vacuum.

Favorite Nap Spot:
Sleeps on the bath mat or spread eagle in the hallway. Trust me, it's a good look.

Favorite Food:
Turkey sandwich.

Cubby was hired to kill bugs. He has killed one to date, therefore he is on probation. Cubby prefers to drink from a glass, not a pet dish. **Update: Cubby has been fired from pest control duties.


Arrival Story:
After losing our three-year-old ragdoll, Emma, Thanksgiving 2002, my mom and I decided we needed kittens to survive the holidays. We quickly found a breeder in Wisconsin and adopted Cubby and his brother Joey. We were so desperate to have them that we drove out to visit twice before Laura (their breeder) would allow them to go home with us. They were six-weeks old when we saw them for the first time. Six, little cottony fluff balls--all beautiful and perfect (see Cubby at six weeks in the Mother's Day stroll). Until our first trip we hadn't so much as seen a picture of them. Four were spoken for and we quickly made our deposit to reserve the last two. On the way to visit we joked about naming them Left and Over and we figured that they would be the most undesirable pair. I swore to myself that when we got there I would not grab and schriek like a three year old demanding one or the other. Of course that's exactly what I did. Very unattractive on a 22 year old. On January 18, when Cubby and Joey were finally 12 weeks, Mom and I drove to pick them up, just days before I closed on my first home. We snapped on their collars and hugged Laura. We all cried as she said goodbye and we promised to give them the best home we could. Their personalities have remained the same ever since. Cubby immediately popped out of the carrier and started exploring, while Joey hung back.

Cubby's AKC-registered name is Angelheart Cubby Bear. Cubby is full of attitude. He is the most vocal cat I've ever had. He is brave and bold whereas his brother Joey is sensitive and gentle. He screams whenever I come home, as if to say, "Where the hell have you been?!" Cubby has an extremely foul mouth.

Forums Motto:
soft as a lamby, but not as nice.

The Groups I'm In:

I've Been On Catster Since:
February 14th 2005 More than 11 years!

I Was In The:
♥Mom♥ 2005 Mother's Day Stroll!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:

Meet my family
TuckerMAXErnie Banks

Meet my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends

Cubby's Castle

For Sale

September 13th 2006 9:29 am
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I know, I know. It's been a long time. I would say that I was in Spain on sabbatical, but it would be a filthy lie. The last several months have been particularly unpleasant. I developed an affliction that caused me to groom myself raw -- until I was patchy and bald. The itching was excruciating and I scratched until I bled. For a while I had Crazy believing that I was truly allergic to Max. This began back in December. It feels like an eon.

Shortly after my torture began, Crazy noticed that I had ripped out all the fur on my forelegs. I believe she slipped a Valium (or four) to calm herself and made a note to check on me in a day or two.

Then, it was off the vet (who said, let's just keep an eye on him.) Next trip, they tested for ringworm (icky). That test involved waiting a couple of weeks for whatever reason. I think they were growing the worm. I proved negative for said worm. Could it be a food allergy? Perhaps. And, I started a prescription diet -- duck and green pea. Delicious, but not helping cease my itchiness. Eight weeks I spent on this fare and eventually it was determined that no food allergy existed. Must be an environmental allergen. Crazy suggested it was my castle -- the kitty condo that she had given Max and me for Christmas. Could it be? Nah, seems unlikely. Vet shrugged.

Next stop -- kitty dermatologist. Now, this lady was good. She purported that Max had brought something itchy into our home when he was adopted from the rescue group. Could be that while the symptoms were dormant in him, they were present in me. Six week treatment for mites. No avail.

Meantime, Crazy was testing her theory. She moved our kitty condo into storage. Finally, my dermatologist prescribed a antihistamine. Two tablets twice daily. Bleh. That really means human finger down throat twice daily. So, each time I saw Crazy coming toward me I would flinch and run like hell. She usually caught me. After all, I was exhausted and uncomfortable.

By July, I turned around. My fur began growing in nicely and I began to look big and healthy again. Things are finally going well and Crazy is certain that the cat tree was the catalyst. I had been spending all my time there. Hey, maybe she's not as crazy as I thought.

So, I've put my kitty condo on the market. Call me if you'd like to make an offer.


Casa de Cubby

December 15th 2005 11:41 am
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Christmas came early to casa de Cubby. On Saturday, Crazy brought home a ginormous cat tree—a kitty condo, if you will – perfectly adorned with a big bow of red velvet that would make Mr. Claus himself proud (or perhaps a bit green with envy). It’s got three large buckets for lounging and a tunnel for hiding. There’s just one catch: I’ve got to share it. Little Idiot already got his germy paws all over it. Regardless, the top bucket is mine. I fought him for it. Blood was spilled, yet I prevailed. Now, if only I could take my meals up in the top bucket.
Let’s be honest. Crazy bought the huge, $200 kitty condo for selfish reasons—as a sort of peace offering. She is actually hoping this distraction will keep Max out of the Christmas tree and help to prevent her ornaments from being shattered. Most of the ornaments have been plucked or batted off the branches. Those that did not break now reside under the couch, refrigerator or dresser. I even found one in the communal toilet (don’t ask).


Don't Tug on Superman's Cape

November 10th 2005 1:10 pm
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He had it coming. It's obvious that Little Idiot is feeling better. He won't keep his filthy little paws off me. I finally snapped after he gave me his eye infection and wouldn't let me rest.
With the help of Drool Beast, I shoved Max in the kitty carrier and locked him up in the closet. Oh, Crazy almost sent out a search-and-rescue team when she couldn't find him after work. Naturally, Max the Motor Mouth told her exactly what had transpired in her absence. I still think it was worth an afternoon of peace and quiet. Tattletail. My new motto: You mess with the bull, you get the horns. (Yes, I'm the bull in this metaphor.)

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