All my life I've been on the cutting edge of change. As a very young (albeit precocious) young kitten I took leave of my mother to go out and explore the big world. Very wisely I chose to travel directly to a school playground where I braved the (ugh) many children and ran up to a teacher who looked like a "cat-person" (aka sucker).
Well, the prey, I mean, the cat-person, I first picked out couldn't take me in, but she helped me con Madame Alto into taking me home. One minute of exposure to my charms and that woman was hooked for life!
There was only one teeny-weeny little problem. Madame Alto already had a cat, named BC who (obviously) hogged all the food and most of the attention. She was a lot bigger (and a whole lot heavier!) than I was, but I handled the situation like a trouper.
I mimicked her every move. I mean, I poured on the charm. OK. I know it seems hypocritical, but it worked. (Score one for brains over brawn!)
I kept working...(and fighting). Although she never really accepted me, BC learned to tolerate me, (with a little "friendly purrrsuasion" on my part!) and I settled into my new home.
One day, things seemed very quiet. Madame Alto was crying. BC had crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I did absolutely everything I could to comfort my mom. I rubbed her, purred at her, followed her around for days on end.
Now that I was the sole feline in the household my job was clear: I needed to be the best possible cat I could be. (I sure as heck didn't want Madame Alto to adopt another kitten!) I succeeded and was extremely gratified to be appointed as Madame Alto's number one (and only) cat.
I may have been able to remain as reigning cat, but someone else had the audacity to join our family. At first he would leave for a while, but after a time his stays became longer and more frequent until that terrible day he brought himself and his belongings to our place and never went home, not even to sleep or wash. Madame Alto called him her "husband." (I had a few other names for him but since this is a family page, I won't go into them here.) I didn't seem to have much choice about this man who invaded my territory so I learned to tolerate him, (but just barely.)
I KNEW that male would make my peaceful life difficult. Overnight it seemed, boxes appeared and my belongings were packed away. Then Madame Alto closed me in the bathroom. I heard a lot of thumps, and when she let me out....everything was gone except for....THE CARRIER TO HELL! I knew what that torture chamber was for....and I fought the good fight, but might won out over right and I was closed in. Imagine my surprise when it was opened and I was not at the white-coat smelly-doggy place. I hopped out and ran for an open door hoping I'd be able to go home, when...ouch! I found out what a picture window was for.
Well, actually I knew what a picture window was for, but I figured I'd better make my humans feel very guilty for mistreating me so harshly. I hid under the bed for a week. Now as you can see, I'm pretending to enjoy my new digs very much. (NEVER let a human guess what you're thinking.)
My duties as chief feline and lap-warmer are not too onerous. I make sure Madame Alto has suffient intellectual stimulation to keep her brain from rotting. (Yes, I KNOW that is a trashy novel she's reading, but at least it's not a game show on [shudder] television!)
I feel obligated to check Madame Alto's html as she creates webpages. She is so lost without my help. I taught her everything she knows about computers and the internet, only I never get the credit. (Not that I would want it of course. NOBODY is more modest than I.)
