Sable vs. Casey

Casey... She was the only other fat cat to ever grace this house. Sarah likes little dainty princess cats who look like they never eat. Ha! Liars! They just burn it off outside. Some of them don't even know how to hide the evidence! Better to enjoy my food right here in the open! I don't mess with birds, rabbits, etc. My bowl of food is just fine. There's only one problem: Sarah's thinking about putting me on a diet. I think I may have to fake her out for a while and make her think food doesn't matter that much to me.

I shouldn't talk too negatively about Casey. She did live to be 19 years old. I hear she was quite the legend around here and good at irritating Sarah's mother even though she was sweet and could purr loud enough to wake the dead. And apparently we have a few things in common (besides being fat cats). Neither of us were supposed to be here. Casey's sweetness enabled her to wiggle her way into Sarah's family--or maybe it was her pathetic abused-stray-cat appearance combined with Sarah's new job and love for that soft fur and loud purr.

I was not an abused stray cat. I belonged to Sarah's roommate; and I was mean and nasty. Sarah's roommate moved away and only took one cat. Imagine my surprise when I didn't make the cut. My pretty fluffy sister and I were slated to go to the shelter, where we would supposedly get nice new homes. Ha! Imagine the nipping and hissing and spitting that would begin when little curious fingers began approaching my cage, expecting me to purr and nuzzle their hands in excitement over the possibility of going home! I don't think so.

Sarah thought she would "just try it." Ha! Here I am, seven years later; and I know everything about her life! Exactly the way I planned it. I'm not thrilled about the fact that every few years she insists on bringing a new dog in here--she calls them Seeing Eye dogs. Truth be told, I'd be perfectly happy if she dumped off everyone but me and I was the queen of the home. But she keeps talking about how much she loves us all... Every day she sings a little song and pets "Inca Binca," sleeps the entire night with Sierra in her arms, takes a gazillion trips with Loretta (that "Seeing Eye dog" whom I can't stand), and insists on holding me and then giving me a treat. I can live with it. But in return, I'll reveal a little of life's secrets.