Our Origin Story
Our story starts as random as most do. I was drunk, and ran out of cigarettes one night. So I went to the Circle K which was close to my old apartment, when I met a cute cat. Now I’d never really cared for cats. I was never overtly mean to them or anything but I just didn’t quite care for them as much as I enjoyed dogs. However on this night, this particular cat came along and changed things. This dude was cute, clean looking and rubbing all over my legs…headbutting me for attention. So I sat down and started petting him. He layed on his back and showed me his tummy. He was being VERY friendly. Not the usual scary ferals that battled the racoons nightly for control of “Castle Dumpster” outside of my apartment.
I went in, bought my smokes and then looked around the Circle K for something a cat could eat. Not much in there. So I grabbed one of those protein pack things. The ones that have some jerky and cheeses drenched in preservatives. I was determined to make a pal, and so I went outside, lit up a smoke and started leaving pieces of the food out. He gobbled up the jerky but ignored the cheese. As we were vibing, the manager came out, his first words “I see you met our mascot.”
“What’s his deal?” I asked. The story I heard was heartbreaking. A group of kids found a feral cat who had kittens, gathered them all up in a box, and went around “selling” them for $5 to people around the trailer park. He was one of those kittens. The people who “bought” him never took him to a vet, made him an “inside/outside” cat, and didn’t really care for him beyond him being a cute companion who was “kind of” around. Eventually, the people this cat lived with were evicted. They packed up their most valued family members and belongings. The cat wasn’t one of them.
I want to reiterate that I never really “liked” cats. I’d pet them. I’d suffer their fur getting on me because I like animals. But I would always rather play with a dog. But hearing this story made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t let homeboy just sit in a parking lot of a Circle K in the hood begging for pieces of beef jerky forever. So I asked the manager, “You think he’ll make it a few more nights while I figure out all of the shit I need to have a cat?”. “He’s been out here almost a year at this point. I think he’ll be alright. Are you really going to take him?” I weakly replied “yeah…”
Two nights later I arrived at circle K. The manager wasn’t there but as soon as I got there, the employees (who kinda knew me already) asked “are you the one who is taking the cat?” “If you guys will help. He doesn’t seem to wanna get near the cage.” After having the employees help me trick ol’ boy into the cage, I placed him in the car to the sounds of crying rage and betrayal. He didn’t want to be trapped. No cat does. He whined for 2 straight hours at my house and spent most of the time hiding behind the green screen in my studio.
Eventually Louie settled into the role of my best pal. And a few months later, during hurricane season a black cat showed up no more than 5 or 6 weeks old. I always feed strays at my place, so he found our feeding station. When I opened up the door to go out and freshen up the food and water, he decided to just barge into my house, eat all of Louie’s food, and then pass out. I had a new cat. And so we added Judge Clarence Biscuits III. to our crew. I didn’t always have a great life. Neither did Louie or Clarence. So “The Bad Luck Boys” was formed. And we make it a point to make sure all of the other “bad luck boys” out there can occasionally get a meal, get medical attention and get out of the rain.
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