Scott was the one who insisted on adopting them. I wasn't big on cats at the time, but let Scott wear me down enough to welcome them. We named them after ourselves, Roy being Scott's middle name and mine, Raelynn.
Of course, I know better now, but back then, I believed everything the vet told us. What blows my mind is they're still telling people the same thing and getting away with it, getting away with murder. Ray developed a disease which caused crystalization in his urinary tract. Roy develped chronic renal failure. Had I known then what I know now, I'd feed raw and they'd never have been vaccinated. Certainly, not as many times as they were given toxic and deadly vaccinations. When I look back at their records, I feel somewhat like Shelley Duvall in 'The Shining' when she read Jack Nicholson's manuscript and realized her husband had gone nuts.
Happy birthday, Roy and Ray. We miss you today. Thank you for introducing me to the world of cats. Like the man so wisely said, 'there are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.'