You Must be Kidding!

What is this? Has the whole world gone to hell in a hand basket? Will there never be any peace in my life?

It begins with spraying water everywhere. Then my tree falls down. Then they haul it away. Then they make a ton of noise and disrupt my world digging and hammering and, generally, making a mess. THEN, they screen in the building so I can't reach the door to mark it. This is just unacceptable - unacceptable, I say.

They went from this:



to this:



On top of the noise, these guys kept making little tiny fires on the ends of sticks that smelled bad. I had to go away for the whole day when they were here. On top of everything else, I cut my paw and it's bleeding. This didn't make the crazy old lady happy at all. She wanted me to show her what was wrong, but there was no way I was letting her get her stinky human paws on MY paw. I'm sure there would have been pain and/or grease involved.

All this happened this past weekend. Then, yesterday, the crazy old lady went out and made a circle of stones around where my tree used to be. I suppose she was attempting to create a proper shrine, but she only succeeded in rearranging the perfectly good pile of rocks (excellent for making territory) into this crazy round thing.



I did hear her say they would be going to buy a bird bath soon. Wonderful news, that! It means a new channel of Bird TV will be in the making.

Oh, and I do hope they'll put in an order so there will be no more unexpected cold nights like last night!

Oh, the indignity. The indignity of life with humans.

I Could Have Been Killed!

Boy! I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile. I've been a bit under the weather. After all, it is spring, and all the girls are calling me. It's hard for a boy to stay home and out of trouble when those trollops are wearing their come hither clothes and singing their sirens' songs. It doesn't help that I'm starting to feel my years and there are a lot of young, strong studs out there trying to send me packing. I manage to get in a lot of good licks, though. After all, what I lack in youth, I make up with in experience (if you know what I mean).

The crazy old lady is worried about me because I'm bleeding all the time and I won't let her put that greasy stuff on my cuts. She keeps saying it'll make them heal faster, but I just can't stand either the feel or the smell. I've healed all these years without her help and I can keep on doing it. It's nice that she tries, though.

As you know, a lot has been going on at our house. First, there was the spraying of the house with gallons and gallons of water and some kind of smelly stuff. What is it with those humans and their smelly things? I've finally gotten my yard marked correctly again.

THEN, along comes this big storm. The weather service says it wasn't a tornado, but you can't prove that by me! I had to purr to see the humans' house covered, I mean plastered, with thousands of leaves and pieces of leaves. Teach them to spray stuff all over the place. What's more, one of the trees in the back yard fell over. What if it had fallen on my bed? I could have been killed! What a loss to the world that would have been.

If you don't believe me about the tree, take a look at this:



What's the worst part to me is that it was blocking my favorite path to the neighbor's shed. He keeps a little dry food in there for me, but don't tell the crazy old lady. Anyway, I like to walk by that tree and mark my territory on the way. NOW, I have to walk AROUND the tree. Right inconvenient, that!

Today, two noisy men came and chopped up the tree and cut it down. I heard my crazy humans saying they might get a bird bath to put where the tree was. I kind of like that. It will mean another channel on the Kitty TV and a new place to make my territory. I'll keep you posted.

OK, OK

So, I'm easy. I told you it would happen. I told you I'd eventually start using the feed tub/bed in a few days. Well here I am!



I know it's disgusting and I'm a total failure as a self-respecting cat. You have to understand. It's wet out here these days. It's been raining for two days and is threatening to continue all weekend. What am I to do? I mean. I can stay here all the time, except for my ablutions, of course.

At least the crazy old lady kept my old rug so it would smell like home.

I'll sleep here for today. Well, maybe tomorrow, too. I may allow her to keep this here for me.

Now, For the TV Special!!!

Here they are:


The crazy old lady keeps throwing corn and stuff out to these guys. They're getting closer and closer. I may have to suspend my "no birds" diet, if this keeps up. On the other hand, I find ducks to be rather greasy eating, so I'll probably continue to abstain and enjoy the show.

You Wouldn't Believe!

This place is falling apart. Yesterday, this guy I don't know at ALL came here and started throwing water and smelly stuff all over the place. They called it "Purple Power" and "bleach." It stunk to high heaven. And everything got wet - everywhere. They took my ice chest away, too. The crazy old lady brought out a metal tub like they feed cattle in and put blankets and a rug in it. I think they want me to sleep under the open air. Sheesh! I'll do it in a few days, but I want to punish them first.

Anyway, this guy wet down everything and brushed it. I think they call it "pressure washing." I don't know why they want to wash off all the nice dirt and smells. Now, I'll have to go around and mark my territory all over again. Such a waste!

The Tiniest Bird - The Noisiest Guest

These:


have been flying over my head all day!

The crazy old man went out and hung this red thingy with holes in it from the roof of the house. It hangs right in front of one of the humans' windows. I guess they like bird TV, too, 'cause this thing is right where they can watch it.

I don't know why they'd want to. After all, they have access to the two stupid budgies inside and can go anywhere they want to look at the crazy things. They never seem to catch one for dinner or anything. Odd behavior in those humans.

Anyway, I'll be sleeping peacefully on top of my ice chest and BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTT!!!!! this thing flits right over my head. What? The thing has a death wish or something? Doesn't it know who I am???!!! I don't care how fast those things are, if I really wanted to, I could reach out and smack it right out of the air. It wouldn't be worth the effort, though because they wold be all boney and tasteless. The only thing those crazy little fluffballs eat is sugar. That's right! Sugar. No bugs, no corn, no seeds - nothing but sugar! Hmmm. On the other hand, they might make a delightful dessert.

Watch out hummingbird population! I may have just found my incentive for whisking you out of the air!

Abandoned!

I am totally irritated! My crazy old lady and crazy old man took off and left me again on Saturday. I did get breakfast. It was a lot early, at least one hour, but I did get it. Good thing, too. I may have had to take a couple of the Bird TV programs offline. There's a scarcity of good Bird TV out there right now, anyway, 'cause they're off making and feeding little birds (I consider them pilots for future programming).

Anyway, I knew I wouldn't get my noon time cheese, but I was hoping for my evening crunchies. They came dragging in around 8:30 p.m., I think. I don't know. I'd already left for my evening engagements and, so, wasn't there. The least they could have done is leave the crunchies out. I might have gotten them before the raccoons did.

Who's (Whose) Bats?

There was one of these ugly things on my porch this morning:




This isn't the actual one. The crazy old lady forgot to take a picture of my bat.

I don't know why humans get so messed up about these things. They eat a lot of bugs and help keep ME from getting sick or getting heartworms and stuff. I like them. This one is probably young and got mixed up this morning on the way back to the belfry or attic or tree or cave or whatever. They won't hurt you, although they CAN bite. They only bite if you scare them. And they don't mean to hurt you.

My crazy old lady came out with a broom and "peeled" it off the ceiling of my porch and, then, when it grabbed on, carefully placed it in the shadows of a rose bush to spend the day. She didn't even squeak or hop around like she does when a bug gets on her. Silly human!

My crazy old lady isn't as crazy as I thought.

I Wish They'd Stay Home!

My humans went away on another one of their all day trips on Saturday. That meant that, except for the yummy, smelly moist food breakfast (at 5 a.m., mind you!), I had to make nice with the neighbor lady for lunch and dinner. After all, I had no idea when they might be back and a guy gets hungry. The neighbor lady is really nice, but she only gives me crunchies. I don't like crunchies nearly as much. In addition to the fact that they don't smell as yummy, I'm very old and during the time I was fending for myself all the time, I lost most of my teeth. I have enough to get the crunchies crunched, but it's not very pleasant.

My crazy old lady is going nuts over the ducks. Every time she sees some, she runs out the door with a jar of dried corn, squawking (ever so much like a Goose), "Ducks, ducks, ducks!!!" She throws corn all over the yard while the ducks waddle around and give her the evil eye. It does make good TV, but she really, really is nuts. One year she did this and, after the ducks hatched their eggs, she'd have about 30 or more of the ducks in the yard. I think she'd be much better served buying me cheese and even smellier food!

This is what those guys look like (we don't have a river in our yard, it's just in the picture.)


I think you'll agree that THIS is what those ducks are saying about my crazy old lady when she's not around:

Computer Shut Out

I haven't posted in a couple of days. Don't blame me! My mom has shut me out of the computer. She's been playing some kind of stupid Mafia War game on it and won't let me near it. I ignored her when she came outside earlier and I think she's seen the light.

The crazy old lady has been out in the yard the past few days, whenever the sun would come out. She's been digging up those yellow flowers that grow all over the yard. I kind of like them. Humans call them dandelions. Who can't like a flower named after a cat? Then, she started throwing around all kinds of wild flower seeds. I better not get hay fever from them. She's also threatening to come out and put that cold liquid stuff between my shoulders again. I hate that stuff! I have to admit it makes me feel better because, as she says, it kills all those nasty bugs. I hate bugs.

The ducks have been coming around lately. I like it when the ducks come. They're like a special program. I like to daydream about when I was a young cat and, rather than watching them on my Cat TV, I'd chase them around. Cheeky things!

Jade the Princess has been modeling a new sign of her slavery and brainwashing. She's been wearing a purple harness and letting the humans put a leash on it and take her outside while they sit in the rocking chairs. With any luck, they'll rock on her tail! Stupid cat!

Here's a picture of me showing my crazy old lady how cute I am in the sunshine:

Oh, the Indignity!

Some cats, like most humans, have no dignity at all. Now, cats are noted for being dignified and aloof. That crazy animal that lives inside the house has no self respect at all! Why, were it up to me, I'd have her railroaded right out of catdom. I'd take away all her whiskers.

Look at this:



Now, what kind of self respecting cat would wear a little black bow tie? With a little black bell, mind you, so she can't sneak up on anything, not even the humans in the house! What's next? Little fishnet hose and bunny ears? Will she be wandering around the house offering to serve various refreshments to her humans, giving a little dip while she's at it? Will she offer to take dogs for walks or to go for nude swims in the evening?

Ah, the inhumanity, no, the inCATidy!

I must go and find a mouse to chase, or a spider to squash, or, oh, I don't know - anything, anything at all to take my mind off it!

What's This All About???

See these:



My crazy humans are harboring these inside the house. What's up with that?

I'm hoping they're fattening them up for a nice dinner. After all, they cover all food groups: protein, fiber, toothpicks! There's nothing more perfect than a bird. Now, I'm not into catching them for myself, but I wouldn't turn up my nose to a parakeet dinner. As long as someone else does the feeding, raising, watering, murdering, cooking -- you know all the things that are messy, time consuming, and far below my esteemed efforts -- who am I to quibble?

I'm thinking they're making them nice and plump before they serve them to me. I may have to share with The Princess. That kind of irritates me, but I suppose I can make the sacrifice.

I wonder what's taking so long, though. One of those birds has been in the house since I first arrived. The second one showed up sometime last summer and I thought that, perhaps, they were going to serve me the first one and get the second one ready. It didn't happen, though.

I hope the green one doesn't get too tough! After all, my teeth aren't what they used to be.

I also don't understand why the crazy old lady spends so much time yakking at them. She keeps telling them they're pretty and cute and big and good. Well, they might be good, but at this rate, I may never get to taste them!

This is all quite perplexing.

I hope I get the white and blue one. That one will be more tender.

Blasted Crow

or, maybe, it's a raven. I don't know. All I know is I hate them. I hate them all. I especially hate the one that visited here yesterday. My crazy old lady gave me some fresh crunchies. I ate a few and was saving the rest of them for later in the afternoon. This:



Oh, and not just him! He called out and all his friends came, too. Soon, there were about 20 of these noisy, loathsome creatures helping themselves to my crunchies.

"Why didn't I protect my crunchies," you ask? In this neck of the woods, the crows/ravens are about 800 pounds. I kid you not! I'm only about 13 or 14. If I'd been defensive, I suspect they'd have taken ME off to the woods and fed me to their noisy, smelly, birdie, feathery, icky offspring!

Jake

THIS was bothering me last night:



They call this thing "Jake." I've mentioned him before. He comes around and tries to eat my food, bark at me, disturbing my peace and interrupting my TV shows. He comes lumbering into the yard and all the birds and squirrels scatter. It's disgusting.

Fortunately, my crazy old lady takes her duties seriously and doused him with the Virginia Tech water bottle she keeps by the door for the purpose of chasing these vagrants away.

Sometimes, Jake just comes to visit me and talk. That's OK. I'll deign to speak to a dog when I must, or if I'm in the mood. He told me the other day that he likes to sneak away when his own crazy old lady isn't looking. Sometimes, she lets him and his sister out in the back yard. Usually, she watches them, but once in awhile, the phone will ring or something and one or both of them can escape.

Now, they're not out looking for trouble, although trouble often finds them. They just want to go out on a stroll, unfettered by collars and leashes and humans yakking. I can understand that and I'm always willing to give them the benefit of my sage advice. I've told them over and over not to let humans put those things around their necks. They do have nice sharp teeth and could prevent this abuse. Do they listen? No, of course not! They're DOGS!!! Slathering, drooling, goofy things that wag their tails, not to let the humans know they're upset, but to bestow affection - yes, I said AFFECTION - on their humans. Such subservient fools!

Anyway, I can tolerate these crazy animals, unless they interfere with my pursuit of happiness.

Ahhhhhhh, to be a cat - and a free cat.

P.S. - If you see my human who adopted me, let her know I DO NOT belong to her and she MAY NOT have me "neutered." I heard her talking about that. I'm not sure what it is but, since she was whispering to the big male human about it, it can't be good for me.

The Princess

We have a princess living in the house (at least SHE thinks she is).

First of all, I don't consider her much of a cat! She's sold out to the humans. How could any self respecting cat allow herself to be trapped inside one of those big boxes? How could she never feel the rain on her fur or experience the joy of chasing a mouse. Surely, her muscles are as atrophied as her brain must be!

Here's a picture of the traitor:



Disgusting, isn't it? Look at her. There she is lounging on the crazy old lady's lap. It's absolutely disgusting - disgusting, I say! Has she no shame?

Her name's Jade. I guess they named her that because her eyes are the color of one of those useless stones the crazy old lady likes to wear.

Oh, and she wears jewelry, too! This is not cat! She actually likes the jewelry. First, they bought her a collar to wear. Nobody had better try to get ME to wear a collar. I'll take their arms off. I will! THEN, they bought a bell for the collar and she didn't blink an eye. Now, they're buying her these glitzy things to wear hanging on the collar, too.

Oh, and she lets them cut her claws. Sheer stupidity, in my opinion. How's she going to inflict adequate damage should someone touch her in a way unbecoming to a cat? What if she wants to scratch the furniture? Fool, that cat.

So, that's why I call her the Princess. She and I will continue to have spitting matches with the screen between us. I will have nothing to do with her.

TV Upkeep

Today, my crazy people came out and put food in my TV set. They go out there and pour hard, tasteless seeds into a round plastic thing. The birds like to eat those awful things! I don't know why.

They have these funny white thingys with holes in them that the little tiny finches pull itsy bitsy black seeds from. Sometimes, those things are just covered with them and they fight and make each other fly. This is my version of action TV!

During the winter, they put out these greasy blocks of stuff they call suet. I like those, too! They get upset with me when I lick the wrappers. I think they're worried I'll get sick, but that grease is mighty tasty.

When they put corn in the wire holders, the squirrels come around. Now, I don't like the squirrels so much. They're very naughty and eat the bird food. This means there are fewer birds of me! I chased a squirrel, once. After all, I'm MUCH bigger than a squirrel. How much trouble can one little squirrel be? A LOT OF TROUBLE! If you look closely, you can see a bare patch on the inside of my left front leg. That, my friends, is from one stupid little squirrel. I really didn't want to hurt him and I certainly didn't want to EAT him. They're way too gamey for me! I guess he didn't know that, though. He grabbed onto my leg and I was jumping around in a most undignified way trying to get him off my leg. He took about an inch's worth of fur with him when he finally let go. I also got in trouble for waking up the neighbor lady who was taking a nap. Why didn't she chase the squirrel with the hose? I wasn't my fault. To get even, I waited until she washed the oilcloth covering on her picnic table and, then, I took a nap on it in the sun. She really doesn't seem to mind my sleeping there, though. I think she actually likes me. She does give me things to eat when my crazy old lady is away.

My squirrel looked a lot like this one:



You can see how naughty they are.

I plan on leaving them alone unless they mess up my favorite Outdoor Cat TV shows too much!

My Favorite TV Show

I mentioned yesterday that my favorite TV show was about to begin. Of course, many of you probably thought I meant the silly box humans have in their living spaces where flat and strange pictures with no smell or taste flash over and over with loud and senseless sounds. That's not my idea of TV. My TV is in 3D. It has substance. I smells good. I would probably taste good, if my inclinations went in that direction. What's more, it's not confined to a teeny tiny little square of space.

My TV is living TV. My TV is watching the birds in my neighborhood.

My favorite show is the blue jays that come to visit the crazy old lady and crazy old man's feeders. Now, these feeders are about ten feet from my box. I love nothing better than to lie there and watch the antics. I have no desire to waste my time and effort, my previous life energy, in chasing these birds and hurting them. They're just too much fun to watch, not to mention that I don't like the way feathers tickle my throat on the way down.



The naughty blue jays know this. Actually, ALL the birds know this. The blue jays, though, are just plain cheeky. They screech and hop around, right up to my dry crunchie bowl. They steal my crunchies, right out from under my nose. Do I care? No, not a bit. I respect their courage and rascally-ness. I can watch them for hours.

We have all kinds of shows on my TV. Some days, ducks come to my porch. The crazy old lady comes flying out of the house, as is her habit, screaming, "Ducks, ducks, ducks!" The ducks waddle close and the goofy woman throws corn and sunflower seeds at them. These crazy ducks eat that kind of stuff, you know.

I also have a gazillion goldfinches, junkoes, sparrows, finches, mourning doves, cardinals and other members of the feathered persuasion to watch. Once in awhile, there's a bit of drama and death, but not at my claws. Once in awhile, a red tailed hawk will restock her larder from our tree. It's sad and it drives my crazy old lady nuts, even though she realizes the hawk has to eat, too.

I'm not about to dirty my claws with those birds. My crazy old lady might not forgive me!

The Locals

I have a number of neighbors here on my porch - in addition to the humans, of course.

I've already introduced you to the nasty raccoon thief. He hasn't shown up for the past couple of days and, if he knows what's good for him, he won't. I've been sharpening my claws in the hope he'll come back and I can show him what a REAL cat can do!

One of my neighbors is Jean Luc. He's a rather prissy looking guy, but he's truly not. He can hold his own with the best of them. Ask me how I know. Jean Luc likes to stroll around the neighborhood riling up the dogs chained out in their yards. I say, "Good for him!" I get quite weary of those dogs. You never know when one of those chains is going to break! I say, curses on their owners for chaining them out, anyway.




I have a couple of King Charles Spaniels living around the corner. They're, good dogs, as dogs go. They have no real interest in tormenting cats. Mostly, they just like to go for walks with their servant and eat. The problem is, they like to eat MY food. Sometimes, they get away from their servant and go exploring across the back yards. For some reason, they think it is quite acceptable to eat MY food. Of course, I will have nothing of that! When they learn they can't eat my food, they stand there and bark at me. What's up with that? All it gets them is my crazy old lady coming out with the water bottle to squirt them. I know this kills my crazy old lady. She likes these characters, especially Jake the Older. She hates to squirt them, especially in cold weather. I say, "Tough!" It's what they deserve and she is obligated to take care of the problem.

You know, my paws are tired and my favorite TV show is coming on. I'll stop for now and tell you about more neighbors tomorrow. If you're very good, I'll tell you about my girlfriend. I think you'll like her.

There Goes the Neighborhood

Everyone knows how the kind of neighbors one has is ever so important in the value of one's property values. I'm becoming a bit concerned about the status of my porch's neighborhood.

Last night, I was lounging in my box after a nice snack of cheese and leftover meatloaf. I was in a bit of a stupor from the nice dairy high when I heard a scratching sound outside.

I kind of peered out of the door hole and saw a couple of bright yellow spots. Eyes! BIG eyes!

I decided that caution was the greater part of valor and, so, just chose to wait and see what would happen. Well, THIS is what appeared:



Now, I have nothing against raccoons, but IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD? I was not overly happy with this turn of events, I can tell you. I mean, my crazy old lady spends her husband's hard earned money to buy me the best in crunchies! She likes to leave them out for me all the time so I can have a snack when the mood hits me.

How is this character going to affect my quality of life? I know my crazy old lady doesn't want to be feeding the entire wildlife population of Marion.

My initial thought was to confront him and drive him away. However, there's a notch in my ear here:



I know, I know. It's a little notch and it's hard to see, but it's there. Where did I get this notch? From a raccoon argument several years ago. He was a cute little fellow and I thought I could take him out - no problemo! Wrong! That sucker was nasty! And STRONG! Oh, yeah, and quick. Now, I'm no slouch, but this guy was like a Tasmanian devil (not that I've actually seen a Tasmanian devil, but there used to be one on the picture box in my first owner's house. Swirled and spun like a twisty storm all over that box and that's what this raccoon was like.), and he trounced me soundly.

Anyway, I just kind of sat there with my head out of my box watching him eat my food. It was terrible, i tell you, terrible!

My crazy old lady heard the bowl scratching and came to the door and turned on the light. That stupid raccoon just stood there and looked up at her.

She came flying out of the house with no thought of her own peril and screeching and waving her arms, she ran toward Mr. Raccoon. At first, I thought there was going to be a major battle, but the raccoon decided he'd had enough and chose to go away. I'm sure he thought my crazy old lady might be rabid.

He'll be back. I know he will. I'll tell you, if my crazy old lady is really THAT crazy - crazy enough to go after a hungry raccoon for me, well, I'll just LET her. After all, she owes it to me to protect me and my stuff. She rescued me and, therefore, my life is hers to protect. It's my due, right? It is, isn't it?

How I Got my Porch

A couple of years ago, I was wandering around my kingdom. I own about 8 blocks of a small town in Marion, Virginia. Marion's in the mountains of the southwestern part of the state - the part that doesn't really belong in Virginia if you listen to the human government-type people. They think the Commonwealth ends at Roanoke.



Anyway, I was on patrol and I had, admittedly, allowed myself to deteriorate a bit. I hadn't been cleaning as well as I might and I wasn't feeling particularly well those days. It was almost time for the weather to get cold and I was feeling stiff, too. After all, I've been around for awhile and have my share of battle scars that act up when the weather changes.

So, there I was, wandering around when I saw this crazy old lady on a porch attached to a yellow house. I'd been in that yard many times, but didn't remember this lady. I skirted the yard warily, not wanting a confrontation. I'd been chased many times.

Well, this crazy old lady got squatted down on her haunches, just like a real animal and started meowing. I mean it! She was meowing. I think she was trying to act like a girl cat who's hot to trot. Well, naturally, THIS absolutely fascinated me. I couldn't resist and slowly, always ready to bolt in case it was a trick, started to approach her.

I finally got within arm's reach of her and she reached out to pet me. Well, I wasn't sure about this turn of events, but I let her barely touch my nose.

The crazy old lady got up and ran into the house and came back right away. She had something in her hand that smelled wonderful! It was that yummy yellow milky stuff they call cheese.

Well, I was still scared, but if there was any way I could get that cheese stuff, I was going to do it. She broke off a piece and put it in the grass in front of me. I gobbled it up and she kept giving me more until it was all gone. Amazing! A human that was nice to me. Here's a picture, from my perspective of my crazy old lady.



The porch attached to the house was an open one and big. The next morning, I was drawn to it by the smell of something delightfully catty. It smelled like a great combination of fishy and meaty. On that side porch, were two bowls. One had this kind of crunchy food humans get for cats. It lacks that nice toothy feel when you eat it, but it fills up the tummy and tastes pretty darned good. AND, there was a bowl of water.

I really liked this porch. I decided to claim it for myself. I started hanging around there a lot. Every single morning the crazy old lady would come out and put more crunchy things in my bowl.

When the weather started to get colder, a box appeared on the corner of my porch. It had been taped up so just a small square was open - just enough room for a large cat to crawl inside. The interior of that box was lined with towels and a bit of some kind of sheepy smelling stuff. The top had a rug on it so I could lie on it. Wow! I liked that box! So, I moved in.

That's how I got my porch and my human crazy old lady.

A Cat of True Distinction ...

That's me - distinctive and distinguished (not to mention handsome and brilliant).

You're probably wondering why a cat would want to write a blog anyway. Well, I'll tell you. The crazy old lady who lives in the house attached to my porch thinks there are people and, perhaps, cats out there that might be interested in my escapades. Well, I can actually understand that. After all, what can be more important than knowing about the exciting and ever changing expeditions I encounter?

Let me introduce myself first.

My name is Jasper the Cat. At one time, I had a different name but I've long since forgotten it. I once lived with someone who scared me badly. That person used to scare me with a broom and yell at me. I decided to leave that home and go out on my own. I figured someone would help me make it and they have.

I'm a handsome fellow, as you can see by my picture. I have lovely gray fur on the top with some black stripes, a snowy white underbelly and legs and a thick coat. You will also note I have fabulous gray/green eyes. See how they sparkle? They give you some idea about my great catonality. That's kind of like a personality with humans, but much better.


There was a time when I didn't look quite this well and when my eyes were full of sticky stuff. I think I had worms, judging from the number of funny spaghetti-like things that came our of me. I'm sure I had fleas and ear mites. The crazy old lady invaded my porch one day and while she distracted me with some nice wet and aromatic cat food, dropped some kind of cold liquid between my shoulders. Now, I'll tell you, that did NOT please me. If I hadn't been so engrossed in the food, I'd have probably scratched her - not hard, mind you, but a cat can only take so much. I think this stuff might have had something to do with the improvement in my health. Of course, it might just be that, like most cats, I am wildly terrific at taking care of myself. I forgave her. As long as she keeps bringing on the smelly good stuff, I'll put up with a lot.

I'm kind of tired, now. It's hard to type with these chubby toes and my claws keep getting in the way. If you are all very, very nice and well behaved like proper cats, I'll write some more for you tomorrow.

There's a lot going on in my life and I'm sure there's nothing you'd rather know about than ME.