Stairmaster

Make no mistake: that Big Bed is my headquarters. I nap, I receive human visitors, and I get a nice up-high view when the other kitties pass through.

The stairs are growing on me, though. They're useful for getting to the food -- big plus. They have a landing half-way up, and an open railing, which makes an excellent observation post. Mom's been teaching me how a toy will bounce down them and dare you to chase it. She also showed me that a toy tossed up to the top disappears until you go look for it.

They've got a lot of tricks, those stairs, and they're keeping me on my toes. I'm showing them who's boss, though: I run up and down them just for fun. The poor guys must be exhausted. I sure am... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Today's Lessons

1. A basket of cat toys is big fun.

2. Jimmy's tail is not a cat toy.

Operation Prince Charming

My plan of action is pure genius.

First, I lured in the peeps. Child's play: wink, yawn, stretch, nudge. They really don't stand a chance. And then the checkmate: I set the scene as "Feline Napping on Sofa" when Mom got home from work. It was so good, she added her rendition of "Sales Associate Rests Legs and Eyes" to the mix. All that creativity made me hungry. When the 6PM Supper Buffet was announced, I joined my cronies in the dining salon. Our chef artfully prepared a mix of their food/my food. There are no leftovers. (I checked.)

Winning over my fellow cats is dodgier work. Like magicians trying to outdo each other, we know most of our colleagues' secrets.

Lily seems to like my style, and we have similar roots, so we've been sharing a room and swapping stories. Seems she was a street cat who found herself pregnant at a tender age and got taken in by Josh, who inherited the animal-in-distress receptor from his parents. She had two kittens that she raised beautifully. They were adopted out as a set, and Lily is no longer on the production line. She's missing a few teeth, like me, and is pretty happy to watch the world go by (especially cars, dogs, and coyotes) from inside the windows.

One of these days she'll show me pictures of her kids. Apparently there's a mouse who knows how to find them. If we can figure out which end of him (her?) is the face, we'll have to ask about that.

Two more conquests to go: Smoky and Jimmy. Wish me luck.

Cat Orientation

It's feeling like home here after 4 days.

I still have my own base of operations -- food dishes and litter box -- in the bedroom, but I'm getting to know the rest of the house. I've explored all the rooms and a fascinating place they call The Indoor Cat Wilderness. (They also call it a basement.)

Jimmy, Lily, and Smoky follow me around, but they don't hiss me too much. I think my friendly little "Hmmm?" is winning them over. Plus, they love the food I brought. (To be fair, I've tried their food, too.) The peeps like talking to me, and Mom has discovered that I love having my fur brushed. I'm stylin' and shiny.

My new addiction is sleeping on the beds. Whoever invented the comforter was onto a million-dollar idea. And I've perfected the art of gently nudging someone's hand while she (or he) is still just a little bit awake to get a scratch on the head. Or shoulder. Or back. Or chest. Or all of the above.

My word for the day: aaaahhhhhhh.

From There to Here

(Mom, start typing:)

I'd been hanging around a housing complex for as long as I could remember; someone who lived there called me "Baby" and fed me. In June 2010, after we'd known each other for 7 years or so, my feeder noticed that something was wrong with my eye and I didn't really defend myself against other cats. She called the Kitty Angels shelter and said they needed to come get me so I could be "put down."

Kitty Angels collected me and had me checked by their doctor. She saw that my left eye was damaged (I can see light and dark); she also found that I have Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, from a deep bite by an infected cat. I was healthy otherwise, and FIV+ cats can live long, happy lives without infecting others, so the Kitty Angels volunteers took me in. They all thought I was a sweet guy.

In November 2011 (yep, 2011), I was living in the Kitty Angels "adopt me" center at Petsmart. A man who was shopping for cat food noticed my cute face and read my history; he went home and told his wife about me. A few days later, she came to see me and took a picture. What's up with that?

The wife came back on December 20th to meet me face-to-face. (I guess they'd been talking about me and looking at that picture.) We hung out, and I purred. And guess what? She came back on the 22nd with a cat carrier and brought me to their house. Whoa!

So here I am... nine years old and living with three peeps and three cats. I'm pretty happy hangin' out and have a comfy sleeping spot. (It's "The Bed.") It's a good spot to watch the other cats, and two peeps sleep there at night -- warm! The wife (now known as Mom) put a couple cat toys up there, too. (I thought it was fun to "pounce" her feet while she was sleeping. She told me it is funny, but please use the toys first. It's a fair deal, and the toys are pretty good. She does let me pounce her hands when she's awake.)

And that's my story so far. Stay tuned!

Along Comes Frazier

We weren't looking for another cat. We were at the Theoretically Ideal Cat Number: three. And then, as it's happened so many times before, serendipity blew through and introduced a little gentleman who needed a home -- our home.

So, friends, we present Frazier. He's a noble successor to Willie, Sarah, Bill, and Muko. And a fine housemate for Smoky, Jimmy, and Lily. He's whispering about the adventure that's taken him from Rescue Kid to Prince of Relaxation. (I'm listening and transcribing.)

Hope you enjoy...