Our Cats

We have cats. Three of them. Smokey (sometimes Moki) is 'my' cat -- all 15 pounds of him. He is a silver tabby. He follows me everywhere I go. He curls up somewhere nearby and naps when I'm stationary, or curls up on my lap or beside me if I'm on the couch. At night, he often curls up behind my knees or on top of my feet. This he does especially in cold weather. Under the bed is better for warmer nights. My son found him in the garage the year after we moved into our house. He was just a kitten, maybe three to six months old. He needed a vet so we took him in. He got flea shampoo and I bathed him in the tub twice. And oh the dead fleas. And oh the terrorized cat! To this day -- 14 years later -- he still can't stand being in the bathroom when the shower begins to run. He started following me around when we returned from a two-week Arizona vacation. Apparently our cat-sitter just wasn't the same, and now he hates for us all to leave the house at the same time, or to see suitcases go out the door. He has security issues. But he will meet me at the door more often than not to get his share of attention and to welcome me home.

Spooky (sometimes Pooki) is our newest addtion to the family. He is little more than a kitten; at least at heart. Solid black. Long haired. He has the longest tail I have ever seen on a cat and it curls at the end so that he looks like he has a question mark for a tail. Sometimes I call him QT for Question Tail or for Cutie (QT...) He's been with us since July 2007.

It began with a young female cat next door who I befriended. She loved to be cuddled and purred her heart out for the attention. I fed her outside and created a little hideway where the food was safe from anyone except the cat. Because she was all black, I called her Midnight. When the neighbors moved, she was still there, sleeping under their front porch. At the time we thought we could only manage two cats. Then we discovered that someone behind us had adopted her. She'd still come to visit. At one point she was suspiciously fat. Later I could tell she'd been nursing kittens. Then one day she came to visit with one of her kittens. He looked just like her except she was short-haired and he had long hair. She and he camped out in the tiger lily bed near the driveway and they slept there a while in June. Then one day, Midnight decided to go home. She made it quite clear that her kitten was NOT going with her! Well, here was this sweet little kitten, looking quite lost and abandoned, and it was July and quite hot outside. What were we supposed to do? His mother brought him to us because she wanted us to take care of him. So we adopted him. His name fit because he seemed spooked by noises and it still fits because noises make him jump or run.

He's been a joy and makes me laugh. A friend gave me a cat toy. I hung it up on the living room doorway and let the elastic string dangle the black furry mouse. All the cats wanted to play but Spooky would have none of that. He grabbed the mouse and ran out to the kitchen. As soon as he put it down to play it would zing back to the living room doorway. He kept doing it. It was hillarious. He's the leaper and still hasn't learned that the piano is not his territory even if it affords a different view to the great outdoors. I'm glad we adopted him. He's a keeper.

When we moved into our house in September, 1993, I kept hearing mewing everytime I was in the kitchen and could hear it clearly in the breakfast nook. I convinced my husband to investigate and we found this small white kitten under the nook. How she got in was a mystery. We took her inside. No one in the neighborhood claimed her. So we adopted her. She had a patch of silver tabbly across one eye, a large round spot on her side, and her whole tail; the rest was all white. We kept saying 'sorry Charlie' when she wanted to do something that was unacceptable and Charlie stuck. She liked to sleep on the bed next to me, too. She was equally fond of our granddaughter and slept on her bed, too. She got sick and the vet couldn't figure out what the trouble was. She died Christmas eve 2005.

The granddaughter wanted another cat to replace 'her' Charlie. We answered an ad, went to see the young cat, and she was adopted. She was named Cali. She looks more like a Tortoiseshell, but we were told she was a Calico and she does have a bib-like patch of white under her chin.. She isn't 'my' cat. No way! It is clear to everyone that she is the C's cat and nobody else's. Cali comes to her when she's called. She sleeps on her bed. Her safety zone is her bedroom. Smokey tries to terrorize her and she runs to the bedroom and crawls under the dresser where she can fit but Smokey can't. She and Spooky chase each other all over the house. She loves her basket by the kitchen door and won't give it up for any reason. Even when company comes she sometimes sleeps right there through all the noise. When it gets too intimidating for her, she retires to the security of 'her' bedroom. She's a definite window cat and spends hours watching the great outdoors.

They are my 'children' and they are my company when everyone else is somewhere else and I am home. I'm definitely one of the people where 'home is where the cat is' ...