I have a bad-assed cat. Had you heard? Yeah ... he is a B.A.D.A.S.S. He ignores, without prejudice, each of the following names he's been called: Woody, Woodster, Woodstock, Woodrow, Stinky-Stinkerson, Black Head, Guts and Pig-Cat. (Along with the ever popular, you tubby little shit !) A few things I have learned about this animal are: His shit stinks worse than any other animal I have ever had the pleasure of being near whilst it shat ... seriously, it smells like he ate the arsehole out of a skunk. He has absolutely no manners whatsoever and parades around on the sacred ground of counter tops and tables without shame. You can't so much as pour a bowl of cereal for the children without a black cloud descending upon it from what seems like every direction. If it is liquid ... he will drink it. Even if that means he has to stick his paw into the container and lap it up a pawful at a time. His absolute favorite beverages? Anything milky, my meal replacement shakes, Hu...