Two Old Farts

Many many years ago, my sister brought home a tiny tiny black kitten from a pet store in Las Vegas.
Although small, as kittens will be, he was busy and full of it.  We thought a big name would suit him so he was christened, Spartacus.
He grew into a beautiful cat.

Eventually, that large name was shortened, to Spart.
Well, ok, Spart the Fart.
It was more fun to irritate my mom by just calling him The Fart.

I moved away and got my own black cat because of the fond memories I had of The Fart.
Many years have now passed.
Every time, I go visit my parents, I'm sure that it will be the last time I see Fart, but he's still there.
He and my Father just shared a birthday and Fart made it to 18 years old!
I won't tell you how old my Father is.

Happy Birthday, Boys!