fat cats and their perches

"Awww, don't call her fat." That is what Sarah's friend said. I think she was trying to be sympathetic to me, as if my feelings would be hurt because Sarah called me a big fat cat.

Humph!

There is no better way to describe me! I like my food. I like my treats. I am a big, fat cat. Period!

And let me tell you something else. Big fat cats need big, fat litter boxes. It has taken me a long time to explain this to Sarah. I think she is finally getting the hang of it.

Now, there are two words I used here. Let me explain. Big, and fat. Not just one or the other. There are big cats and little fat cats. I am a big, fat cat. Sarah learned her lesson when she tried to turn my litter box sideways. She thought it would accommodate my fatness.

Well, it was not my fatness that needed to be accommodated. It was my bigness that needed to be accommodated. I needed room to, ya know, be in the box. Big cats are long cats. Big skinny cats have the same problems. They like longways boxes. Are we communicating yet? Your big cats may thank me. Oh, one more thing: they like lots of litter, more than you give those little dainty cats.

Remember: it is not politically incorrect to call a fat cat a fat cat--unless, of course, you're trying to talk about money grubbing businesspeople. In that case you should probably keep your mouth shut.

holiday safety

Sarah just came back from a big conference, and I am very glad to see her! Of course, she only gets a little bit of time to recover before jumping into the fray of Thanksgiving gatherings with out of town guests. Christmas music is already playing, and Sarah's parents will put up their trees within the next week or so. Sarah's decorating preferences have changed over the years. Sad to say, part of the reason for that change is yours truly. I just can't keep my paws out of the decorations! No drama intended here. It got me in some serious trouble about a year ago, and I am lucky to be alive.

So let's talk about decorations...

Ironically, I didn't get in trouble during the holidays. Sarah never put up a real tree, so her tree never needed to be watered. PetsMart has an article about holiday safety on their web site; and they talk about the importance of not letting your pets drink Christmas tree water. Oh, I can tell you this would have been a big problem for me. I like water so much! If my own water is empty, I drink Sarah's water! If hers is empty, I drink it out of the kitchen sink! Oh boy, we would have had problems with Christmas tree water!

Anyway, we didn't have any holiday things up at the time... Sarah had sung at a memorial service for someone, and the people gave her a flower arrangement as a thank-you gift. She came home and put it on the table. Well, that weekend she learned why she could not grow African violets anymore. In other words, she learned who was responsible for killing them every time she started growing them. I had always been so sneaky, and I had managed to make her pin the blame on Inca! I thought I was so smart and stealthy! And it was so cool because Inca had been so good with violets for several years before I came home, and it made Sarah really mad that now Inca was destroying them.

Well, it didn't take long for the flower arrangement to suffer its fate. I did it while Sarah was out of the room; so again she didn't know who did it. At least, she didn't know until I started throwing up ... and kept on. By the time she figured out what had happened, it had been long enough that I had stopped throwing up and was sleeping in my chair. I drank a bit of water and wanted to be held a bit. The emergency vet said that she could bring me in if she wanted; but she decided to watch me since it had been longer than 12 hours. When I got past the third day and began to eat and play, things began to look up.

The problem in the flower arrangement was lilies. Sarah hasn't brought any more flowers in the house since then, and I've been mostly healthy. But I sure do love to be close to Sarah now.

So check out that article, and make sure you watch your pets. Oh, and if you are one of these silly people who likes to give your dogs presents, please don't give them Greenies. Sarah wants you to know that not every pet treat digests well.

What am I hiding from?

I've been hiding. It's hard for a big cat like me to find good hiding places. Inca's so lucky--she can just go hide under the bed. Sierra's even luckier. She once found a nice little hidey hole--inside the mattress. You should have seen the pandemonium that ensued while people looked for her. Afterward Sarah's dad boarded up the bottom of the box spring so that no cats could get in there. Now Sarah has a nice new one, and so far (as far as we know, anyway) no little gray cat has hidden inside it.

So why have I been hiding? Because Sarah bought new wipes to keep us from shedding. Ugh! She says they're oh, so cool, and of course I am supposed to tell you all about them. I do have to admit it's pretty cool the way she can sneak up on Inca now. The last batch came in a package, and she had to store them in a Ziplok bag. So when she needed one, she made this big production: opening the drawer, getting the bag, opening the bag, getting the wipe, closing the bag so the other wipes wouldn't dry out. Of course, Inca heard her doing all this, woke up, and ran away by the time she was finished. Eventually Sarah figured out how to hold Inca and do the production one-handed. Too bad I didn't know how to use a camera. That would've been a nice picture to post, especially because Inca does the little squirmy routine.

Well, these new wipes come in a nice container with a lid. They can just sit on the dresser, and when Sarah wants one she just pops the lid off and takes one out, and it's all very fast. Inca doesn't have a clue, and she is still asleep when the wipe-down begins. Boy, does that ever mess up her day.

Sarah's favorite thing about the wipes is that they supposedly smell nice. I wouldn't know--I'm not into nice smelly things. I do find it rather strange--they're supposed to be "fragrance-free." Oh, she also says they make us feel oh, so soft. I haven't noticed that she pets us more or less, but maybe that's just because she's the cat lady. We should test them out on someone else. Perhaps if Sarah's mom suddenly got interested in petting me and thought I was as "pooty" as Inca, then we'd know the "soft" thing was true...

It's not all about me today (though Sarah keeps telling people what a good girl I've been lately because I've been on a snuggling streak).

It is hot, and that means Inca is miserable. She's yowling like a true curmudgeon. I guess she's entitled once in a while--she is 15 years old, after all. Sarah is down to three cans of Farmer's Market pumpkin in the cabinet; so she went in search of more on Amazon. I was disturbed from my nap by hre laughter at finding "Nummy Tum Tum pure pumpkin." She says you can't repeat that five times in a row without making yourself silly with laughter. But it was a nice price and seemed to be selling like mad on Amazon--there was only one left in stock. And, it was available for free shipping with Amazon Prime.

Well well! Nummy Tum Tum is a company that markets specifically to pet owners. I guess lots of cats are yowling just like Inca lately. I'll be waiting to see whether Sarah tries any of the tricks from their Recipes page. In the meantime we'll see just how well Inca likes the pumpkin...

the cat's secret revealed

Believe it or not, I've had nothing to hiss or spit about for a while. Sierra's been leaving me alone, and Inca's just been all snuggled up on the bed with Sarah. I'd hiss and spit about Inca getting all the attention, but I decided to change my strategy. Every so often, I jump up on the bed and even allow Sarah to put me in her lap, and I purr and make her happy. Yes, I do this next to Inca. I know I'm sacrificing my personal dignity, but a girl's gotta get her special attention.

Now I want you to understand that this is a very strategic maneuver. I'm making Sarah do things my way. I don't snuggle up by the pillow and look cute like Inca does. On the other hand, she seems to think she gets a say in it--she does get to put me in her lap.

If you're reading and you're still part of the population who think that cats are aloof and independent and all that jazz, get out from under your rock. Even science is catching up! Yes, they actually have done a study now that proves it. cats do manipulate their humans in order to get attention. Oh wait... I should never have admitted that. I am doomed now. I better go back to looking cute.

shameful update

It comes to my attention that in my shame I have neglected to post that Sarah has managed to get what she wanted for Christmas.

I am now, unfortunately, in the habit of getting on the bed--next to Inca--in order to ask for my food.

I do not recommend trying this with your cats. They will be humiliated and ashamed; and they will resent you even if they purr and pretend they love you.

How shall we address Sarah in the blog?

Christmas has come, and we cats got a treat. Not a present. Just a treat to eat. We're not complaining, you must understand. We're not silly enough to think we must have presents. Presents are a human thing, and it is only humans who actually think about Christmas. Humans attribute way too many thought patterns to us animals. Cats are smart enough to walk away and not put up with this kind of silliness. Perhaps that is why cat owners are thought of as crazy: they don't engage in this ridiculous behavior. Dog owners, on the other hand, may as well have adopted a few kids! No wonder dogs are so poorly behaved! Hmph!

I must say that Loretta is quite the exception where that is concerned. She is not treated like a baby or a kid, and she has learned the rules relatively well. I have to keep her in line now and then, but most of the time she doesn't expect to be babied or treated special. In fact, when people start that kind of talk, it seems to be quite intolerable for her. Boy, am I ever glad!

Sarah has been thinking about letting Loretta have a blog. I sort of like the idea... Perhaps Loretta could explain a thing or two about what it means to be a dog guide and Sarah might come home less stressed once in a while. People seem to have this idea that Loretta could move mountains out of Sarah's way and Sarah doesn't have to do anything. Maybe Sarah should just get on Loretta's back and ride already! Gee, she may as well pluck out her brain for all the stuff people think needs to be done for her from day to day! Perhaps I should get in there and get started on dinner! Can you imagine what people would say if she told them the cat cooks her dinner???

Anyway, about Loretta's blog... There seems to be some controversy. What, exactly, is Loretta's relationship to Sarah? (What, exactly, is us kitties' relationship to Sarah, for that matter?) She is and isn't "Mom." We are most certainly not her "kids." (Pardon me while I go dislodge a few hairballs.) But we all do share a certain closeness that isn't really reflected in "Sarah and Loretta." (I'm much too grumpy to ever call anyone "Mom.")

On the other hand, Loretta is a dog with a job, not a pet. "Mom" is much too informal for minister's dog at work. And Loretta at work is most definitely not Loretta at home. Loretta at work is not the kind of dog who would say "Mom."

So the debate on what to do with Loretta's blog will continue...

Change is coming...

Pssst... Guess what I just saw. Sierra got into Inca's pumpkin. That's right. The precious little gray kitty took a drink out of Inca's sacred pumpkin dish.

Inca has been snacking on pumpkin for about four years now. So Sierra and I are about the age that Inca was when the pumpkin habit got started. Sarah has been saying that she wonders whether we will take it if we ever need it. I guess now she knows that Sierra will.

Not me. No way! Give me my treats, thank you very much! Oh, look! She's back over there for seconds! I think I may have to go use the scratching post or something. This is rather upsetting.

Who Needs Catnip?

Something is going on around here today! Sarah has discovered the way to make Sierra go crazy with glee--and it isn't catnip. Now, Inca likes catnip; and let me tell you, it is something to see an almost 15-year-old cat attack a toy mouse like it is the real thing! I can take the stuff or leave it. It sort of makes me feel good and relaxed. But for my little gray sister, there is nothing in the world like ...

The smell of cooking ham!

Who knew that Sarah could just cook her dinner and give Sierra a whole day's worth of ecstasy... Or maybe that is pure torture. I don't know... Ask Sierra when the day is up and she hasn't gotten any ham to eat. Of course, she has never even tasted the stuff! All the cat foods are made to taste like fish or chicken or turkey, etc. (Once in a while Sarah slips us a piece of chicken or turkey that she's roasted... We won't talk about its comparison to the cat food; but Sarah won't get on board and cook for us all the time. Something about time management or some such nonsense.)

So today Sierra is going berserk while Inca lounges and I sleep. Now when the ham is done, I will get interested. But I really quite prefer the chicken or the beef. Of course, I wouldn't know--they don't make beef cat food either. Someone really needs to give those cat food makers a clue. Dogs get all the fun flavors!

why Sarah didn't sleep last night--I didn't do it!

Inca is at it again. She is keeping Sarah awake at night. I must say that it is, indeed possible to teach an old cat new tricks. Inca is almost 15 years old, and she has finally learned not to jump on the person's head in the middle of the night. (Hey, old cat, such behavior is very un-lady-like, even if it does get you what you want.) This time she even remembered that Sarah hates it when she jumps on the desk and knocks things off. (How courteous!)

So she stood up on the top of the dresser and said, at the top of her lungs (which are, by the way, quite healthy after all these years of maturing and practice), "Mreoooowww!"

She didn't want food. She just sat in front of it and stared, as if it was a forbidden treasure. That could only mean one thing.

It was time for a dose of pumpkin.

How nice of her to yowl for it before leaving Sarah some other reason to give it to her. Personally, I think pumpkin is disgusting. But whatever floats Inca's boat. At least I didn't have to get out of my chair, unlike someone else I know. This, my friends, is why I never had kittens. No one disturbs my beauty sleep.

cat people

For once I am not going to gripe... I know it is odd for a fat cat not to indulge herself in such behavior. However, today I really must pay homage to Sarah. For one thing, she never says bad things about me, even when I am grumpy. For another, she has become very adept at deflecting all those comments people make about that dog who goes everywhere with her and making them instead talk about her beloved three cats. I think this is so sweet and nice of her! I rewarded her by getting nicely into the carrier last weekend when she planned the semi-annual outing for claw clips; and I didn't snap or hiss. Of course, I did take advantage of the fact that the door failed to lock, and she had to make me get back in before we could leave. Ah well... It was a fun escape while it lasted...

Anyway, Sarah found a truly amazing piece of writing, and I think you really must read it. I try very hard to be nice and keep my feelings about dogs to myself. After all, Loretta does nice things for Sarah, and I do have to admit that life really isn't the same without a dog in the house. But I do think it is stupid the way people get so silly about their dog mania. So I just love this editorial about cat people! They have to endure so much stigma, and dog people seem to get so much respect no matter how goofy they are. I think it is about time things changed. Of course, what do I know? I'm just a cat.

Litter-acy matters...

Sarah has been blocking me from posting again--something about real work she needed to do. I think that is a very silly excuse for abandoning the cat blog. Not only that, but today she won't even allow me to talk about food. She insists that I use my precious hour of blog time to tell you all what a cool litter box we have. Of course, I don't really care, but she seems to think that there are other cats in the world who are picky about their boxes.

She discovered this box when we lived in Florida. (Incidentally, she also discovered me when she lived in Florida--because that is where I lived. It cleans out all of my, uh, hm, disgusting impoliteness without her having to do much in the way of management. Well, she does say that since I eat so much food, I make it necessary to manage the box quite often. But that is really beside the point. It isn't Littermaid's fault I enjoy my food! And they at least make boxes that I like to use. I don't really even mind sharing them with Sierra and Inca; and that's saying something. After all, I don't share my chair!

Sarah posted a review of this thing on Amazon.com, but it won't show up for a few days and will probably take a while before people figure out that she's smart and she knows how to make these boxes work for her. It seems a lot of people think these things are not worth the money; but the real problem is they don't do anything to play nice with them. Sarah's trick is spraying the box with cooking spray before she puts litter in it. Oh, yeah, she also takes it apart and scrubs all the parts every few months. She learned the hard way to scrub the pan last because I got impatient once. What can I say? I like my box!

The Great Hairball Treat Adventure

Well, it is time for a few words about hairball treats and other things. Of course, I must also get my grumbling out of my system because that's what I do best. And this is, after all, the place where I tell on Sarah. If she ever gets hold of this keyboard, I'm in big trouble!

First, a word about the hairball treats... Sarah buys them in bulk. (You can do the same. I won't mention that I have managed to con her into putting a product review up here in this here post, so if your cat is really smart and steps on the mouse at just the right time, it will pop up a little window and force you to stare at the hairball treats until you put them in your Amazon cart. Nifty, eh? I'm such a smart cat! I'll have your cats begging before you know it!)

Last week, Sarah got this bright idea to share some treats with her friend, Jenny, who has a brood of cats. Now, my sisters and I didn't mind this because there are plenty more treat packs in the cabinet. (See above paragraph about the bulk-buying.) However, Sarah forgot to tell Jenny about the fact that the treats are addictive. Now, I was a very polite cat while Jenny was here. However, I did put a bug in Inca's ear about the fact that Jenny had left her purse open; and, well, Inca has no shame. She went in and decided to have a treat on Jenny. Unfortunately for Inca, the treat bag was still sealed. But boy, was Jenny surprised to find a cat mugging her, right there in Sarah's living room! And I do mean mugging. With all the attacking and meowing that was going on, she may as well have been yelling, "Give me all your money--I mean treats!"

Jenny made it home safely with two treat packs. Poor Inca didn't get anything. Oh wait! Sarah had mercy on us so we would stay out of Jenny's purse. Sucker! According to Jenny's mom, who was visiting from Texas, the kitchen was quite the happenin' place the next morning when the treats were given out for the second time. It won't be long before they start begging.

I got caught off guard on Sunday night. Sierra was sleeping on the bed, and I was very hungry. Of course, I was, um, asking for my treat. I will learn never to be so distracted by my hunger again! Sarah put me on the bed, on her lap, next to that gray cat, and made me eat treats out of her hand ... and I am such a gullible fool! I sat right there and did it--and purred! I am utterly humiliated! I waited a whole five days before asking for any more treats, and I didn't even deliver a single hairball. The problem is that Sarah is going to be a tough trainer to throw off. She fed me in my chair this time, which means she's probably working up to a really good trick when I'm not expecting it.

Who trains whom?

It seems that Sarah has decided to train the cat. I tried my beg-for-treats routine this morning, and she played a cruel trick on me. It was cruel because it worked. We'll see how long I fall for this routine...

Last post, I mentioned that I sit up on the top of the chair and mreow for the treat. Well, today I didn't do that. First, I let her know that the silly dog had eaten all of my food. I didn't tell a lie; she really did eat all of my food. I think Sarah has been skimping on Loretta's food because it's the end of the month. Anyway, Sarah filled my bowl, and I acted all happy and perky. In a few minutes, I pestered her again, paws on the leg. "Hey there, excuse me. I'm still hungry..." I didn't mreow or anything. Just a nice, polite request.

Now the key here is that I haven't begged in several days. This is really important. I think it occurred to Sarah that I might be in danger... You know, I might actually get a hairball! And that could have extremely unpleasant repercussions for her.

This is where things take a turn I don't like. The computer chair is my territory. The bed is Inca and Sierra's territory. I do not share my territory with anybody. It is enough that I share a house at all. Sarah already makes me share a food bowl; but there are certain things I just will not do. Going near Inca or Sierra is one of those things; and we all have a generally mutual understanding about this. Inca has even started making Sarah put the food on the bed when I am lounging in the chair so that I don't have to see her ugly face through my closed eyelids.

Now, Sarah has been very respectful of these boundaries during the past seven years that I have been part of her family. The only time she violated them, I forgave her. More on that in another post. When she feeds me my treats, she always gives them to me in my chair so that Inca and Sierra won't touch them.

Sarah has this weird fascination with making me eat treats out of her hand. I think it is crazy; but she seems to think I can learn to take treats without nipping her. Well, of course, I can! What a ridiculous notion: Nipping isn't about lack of self-control! It is about me trying to tell you something that you haven't already heard, you silly human! But I have obliged her and have "learned" to take treats very nicely out of her hand while sitting on the back of my chair. I have even learned to eat them without dropping a single morsel. Now that is an accomplishment--I have this bad habit of being a very messy eater.

Well, this morning Sarah pulled one over on me. She held the treats in her hand from her perch on the bed; and I was so stinking hungry that I went and took them and stood there and ate them. I went to Inca's territory for treats! I am mortified! It must never happen again, no matter how hungry I am! I must retrain Sarah!

Hungry!

Again I haven't been able to get to the blog. Sarah has been busy starting other blogs. You can see the feeds on her web site if you want to know what has been keeping me away. In my absence, I've also been developing a new talent to make sure that she feeds me. I have learned to beg for cat treats.

I must explain--I wouldn't want to overstate my talents. In the past, I had a habit of biting when I was hungry. Sarah decided to "nip this in the bud" by free-feeding me. Then she decided that I was just a bit addicted to my food, so she started feeding me once a day. I learned to put my front paws on her legs when I was hungry--you know, when there were still a few kibbles left and I wasn't quite sure that I would have enough to gorge myself. She seemed satisfied with that. (Inca's method of asking for food is to jump on the desk and knock things around; and Sarah hasn't managed to train her to do anything differently. I think that means I am smarter than Inca.)

So when Sarah started giving us Friskies hairball treats, I decided that I had to refine my food-gathering technique. She just doesn't give them out often enough. They really are quite good, you see, and Sarah just didn't understand when I put my paws on her. She would check the food bowl and scold me for lying to her about it being empty.

So I added something new to my routine. After putting my paws on her, I ran and jumped up on the back of the desk chair. Then I let out a loud, authoritative "Mreow!" In fact, it was the very same "Mreow!" that I let out the first time she gave me a treat. That should settle the matter.

It worked all right--for about a week. She's on to me now and won't treat me at my request anymore. I'll have to revise my technique again...

Pop, pop, pop!

It is July 6. Sarah has been busy doing this and that and hasn't let me get to my blog. But tonight she filled that big cat food bucket, and I am celebrating by taking the keyboard away from her. And I have something to hiss about.

They are still popping those nasty fireworks outside.

Sarah says that I really should post things in a more timely manner. Well, if she would give me the keyboard, I would. But for now, I'll just say it anyway. Fireworks scare cats. It is unkind to continue popping them for hours on end outside the window of a home where cats reside. Please stop!

If you happen to be unfortunate enough to live near firework-popping crazy people, please do your kitties a favor and keep your own self very calm and don't talk to them in baby talk. That just makes them more hyper and will result in you being kept awake all night (which you deserve if you use that silly high voice).

A treat, a treat!

Sarah bought my cat food today... By the way, she bragged to her dad that unlike some other picky kitties she's been reading about online, my sisters and I don't mind eating the Life Source bits in the new Blue Buffalo indoor formula. She made some silly comment about how I don't throw food all over the floor and waste half of what I'm supposed to be eating anymore. She doesn't realize that I'm just making her think that I'm getting in on this budgeting kick so she won't put me on a diet... Anyway, she brought home a big surprise: catnip!!! I should say, a catnip toy. It's a mouse that dangles from a ring so that she can hold it and and we can attack it instead of attacking her. She thought it would be a nice toy for me. Unfortunately, Inca got it first--and wouldn't let it go. She attacked the mouse and buried her head in the ring, even turning her head upside down so she could lick and nip to her little heart's content--except the little kitty heart just could not get enough nip to be contented. Eventually I had a chance to rub my head on that little treasure, too. But boy, oh boy, did Inca ever get a bang out of that little mouse!

Some dogs have all the luck...

Some animals have all the luck! I never seem to fall into that category. Sarah says she knows how I feel, but today I'm pretty mad at her. She caused the problem I am grumbling about.

She decided it was time to fill up that dog's food container--you know, that big, huge container that holds 40 pounds of dog food. Well... she didn't have such good aim with the top of the bag. (I could've told her it would be better to call that Dad man downstairs to come and do this.) Dog food went everywhere! She cleaned it up, but that dog got to play snacky later. Man... It should've been me! No such luck. Cat food bags only weigh 20 pounds, and she never spills those.

My only consolation is that she won't feed Inca any animal crackers. At least there is one thing Inca doesn't get her way about.

How shall we feed the cat?

My cat food container is getting low... Inca has some rather creative solutions to the problem: she has gotten rather interested in Sarah's animal crackers. So far, Sarah has kept them away from her; but I can't guarantee that the bag will remain intact.

Sarah spent some time today looking at jobs on a freelance site. She didn't come away very happy. Most of the jobs advertised offered to pay $1 or $2 per 500-word article. Sarah thinks it is professionally insulting. I wonder how it would put cat food in my bowl! Notice that I'm still rather concerned about this diet thing?

I think Sarah should do something else about finding work.

Hungry cats must be fed!

This week, hoards of people have descended upon Anderson for the annual North American Convention of the Church of God--Sarah insists it should just be called "camp meeting." Some local business owners complain that customers are rude during this annual event. Apparently people don't like the impact of a bunch of out-of-towners on food service. They should see what happens when hungry cats don't get served quickly enough! Sarah has spent the last several years teaching me to stand up and meow instead of bite. If only she knew what angst I hold back when that food bowl is empty--especially when that silly dog has stolen all the food! One day I will pay that dog back for stealing my food...





Speaking of food, I managed to get the bowl filled today, and I didn't even have to say a word. I put a bug in Inca's ear about the impending diet. When there were just a few kibbles left, she started leaping from the dresser to the desk, knocking things around, and generally creating a major scene. It was quite an effective distraction. Sarah got up after about ten minutes and performed the required food bowl maintenance. Score! By the way, Inca is 14 years old. She may just live long enough to pass the Old Casey...

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.