Kenny is an adopted American Shorthair from Nebraska. His birthday is unknown, although it is averaged that he is around 10 or 11 years old. Phillip was like a brother to him when they were younger and the adoption center thought they roamed the streets as alley cats together.
When the Humane Society found them and took them in, Kenny had a few cuts and scrapes, but didn't need any immediate medical attention as his friend Phillip did. Phillip had had his stomach almost cut open and lots of deep cuts from a recent dog fight. His left front leg was fractured and he had frostbite on his left ear. Although his broken bone was mendable, part of his ear had to be removed because it was beyond repair. Today one of Phillip's ears is a stump.
They both waited patiently in the adoption center with no one wanting to adopt them. Finally, after a few years of being with the Humane Society, Phillip was adopted by Curl. They didn't want to leave each other, but Curl couldn't take in two cats at once. And so Kenny waited a whole year before he was finally reunited with his best friend.
Except, all the time spent apart from each other had left their memories blank of each other. They didn't even recognize each other. After a few days of avoidance, they eventually battled it out one night in a fight, Phillip winning. Fur was everywhere, on the couches, the carpet, the walls, the computers. Phillip was the boss of the house and Kenny was to be under his rule.
After this event, the two started getting along well. Kenny started getting fatter and fatter, taking advantage of the all-day buffet because of his lazy owners. It didn't take long for him to fatten up to a plump 20 pounds at his peak. He moved with his owners from Nebraska to Illinois, then to Nebraska and Florida.
He settled nice in Florida, and for the first time in years, went outside. The lanai caged him in, but it was a good 20 ft. by 20ft square, and although he didn't care to be out in the muggy weather, he enjoyed watching the geese fly by the canal that ran in the back of his owner's yard.
Then they moved once more, not far, just a few miles away to a permanent beach house a mile from the gulf shore. This was in fact his favorite place of all of the places he has lived. The back door let out into a fenced in yard of woodchips, where he could stalk lizards or perched birds. The bushes and orange trees made a great spot to bathe in the sun and just relax for the first time in, possible, his life.
THE END
~~Curl
