Insured and bonded by:

My Cats - The Kitten Edition


Dash -
My charasmatic, handsome, and delightful Dash died on New Years Eve, 2018. He was 19 years, and 5 months, old when he died. I adopted Dash when he was about three months old. Dash was playful and very affectionate. He was quite the conversationalist. Though I never understood a meow he said I always delighted in hearing him talk. I miss hearing him meow. I miss Dash's sleeping body on the pillow to the right of my head. I miss seeing him chase the little red laser light around like a maniac. Even during the last few weeks of his life, when Dash was a skinny, dried up, tired old guy, he would still go nuts, and chase the light around like he was a youngster. Dash was alternately known as My Twentieth Century Cat, and as My Number One Bud. When Dash and were alone that one last time, I told him that he was, truly, my favorite.


Milo -
My Milo is still chuggling along, heading toward his twentieth year. Milo can be the sweetest cat I know. As the number of cats in our home has increased over the years he has developed a cranky side. I can imagine him saying, Give me some space, man! Still, sometimes he casts an expression so sweet my heart melts all over the place. Milo used to hardly ever meow. When he would meow it often came out in rough little squeaks. Sometimes he'd try to meow, and nothing but bad breath would come out. There he'd be sitting with his mouth open, the meow left sitting on the tip of his tongue. He is a meower now. Milo doesn't carry on conversations like Dash does. He'll jump in the bathtub and meow, and scratch at the corners of the tub. He sometimes meows when he is dropping a load in the litter-box. I don't understand that. He meows with a great deal of excitement when I show him the blue, rubber cat brush. Milo is the cat most likely to be found sitting on my lap. Actually, Milo is the cat most likely to be found anywhere I am in our apartment. He is discretely known as Daddy's Boy, and publicly known as The Good Looking One. When Milo and I are alone, I tell him that he is my favorite.

  Mr. Blue

Mr. Blue -
My Mr. Blue died on March 2nd, 2020. He was 17 years old. When Mr. Blue first set paw in our apartment he immediately ran under the bed. He came out, but I could hardly get within five feet of him before he would run back under my bed. He was a tense kitten. If I back up a little he would run out from under the bed, jump on Dash or Milo, shoot across my bedroom, climb a low hanging tapestry, chew on a cord and try to climb into a shoe. If I took a step toward him, though, back under the bed he'd go. Mr. Blue has calmed down a bit, but he is still a tense guy. He will lie on my lap, and sleep with the rest of us on my bed. If I make an unexpected move, though, he will cautiously trot away and check out the situation. I tell him that he has nothing to fear, but that has never seemed to help much. I don't want to give the impression that he is a nervous wreck. He is relaxed much of the time. He's just cautious. Mr. Blue is a great looking cat His feet are big, and he has a long, full tail. From his nose to his lower back he is about the same size as Dash and Milo, but he doesn't need to lose a couple of pound like they do. Maybe that nervous energy keeps him slim. He is also known as Mr. Intensity. When Mr. Blue and I were alone, I tell him that he is my favorite.


Simon - 07/2004 to 12/10/2008
Sadly, my Simon passed away in the early morning hours of December 10th, 2008. I woke up shortly after 3:00am. He was lying on the bed, at my side, looking like he was in a deep sleep. Soon, it was obvious to me that he was dead. Simon was only 412 years old. I thought I'd still have him ten years from now. I don't know why a seemingly healthy, and highly energetic cat, would die so young. So it goes, I guess.

When I went to The Seattle Pet Expo in 2004 I had absolutely no intention of bringing home a kitten from the event. I had three cats at the time, and three cats were enough. Well, I saw a kitten in a cage, and I just couldn't pass it by without asking if I could hold the adorable thing. As I was holding the future Simon in my hands he tilted his head and rubbed his little cheek against my palm. I melted, and he was mine.

I still miss Simon. He was my only cat who would fetch a ball, and bring it back to me. He was the only cat who would do a forward roll, an act that was funny, and, I swear, an act he'd do only when he knew I was looking. Really. He'd trot down the hall way, look back at me, then tuck his head down and roll over. He was sweet, funny, and very affectionate.

Mr. Blue missed his cuddle buddy. Annabelle missed her special play buddy.

The last time Simon and I were alone together, I sitting in my car, he lying on my lap, I told him one final time that he is my favorite.


Sadie -
Sadie is a very sweet, playful, lip lickin', chin chewin', shoulder hoppin' delight. I found her one night living with some homeless youths. I feared that her life on the street might be a short lived one. So, I offered the youths forty dollars for the kitten. They said yes and Sadie suddenly had a warm, comfy new home. (Well, a neighbor took her in overnight. I didn't want her to mix in with my other cats until she got a complete physical. She got that complete physical the next day, and was determined to be a healthy seven week old kitten.) Dash found her curious. Milo seemed not to see her. Simon hissed at her here and there for about a day. Mr. Blue was pretty upset by her presence for awhile. It took a few days of hissing, and growling at her, before he finally accepted Sadie. Then she was just another part of the gang, sleeping and playing with everyone. I am so happy for having found her. Also known as Baby Doll and My Beautiful Little Girl. When Sadie and I are alone, I tell her that she is my favorite.


Annabelle -
My Annabelle died on June 30th, 2020. She was only fourteen years old. The big tumor won. Annabelle was sweet, cranky, and funny as all get out. When I got her she had the worst breath I have ever had the misfortune to smell. Her breath was an 'odiferous nightmare' (thanks Bloom County). It was unavoidable since, when I picked her up, she rubbed her nose against my nose, and licked my face. It was very cute, but revolting at the same time. I learned to hold my breath when she assaulted my face with her nose and tongue. After a few thousand dollars of dental work the nightmare of her garbage breath ended. Annabelle loved to meow. She meowed a throaty meow when she ran, meowed like a crazy cat when I was fixing her food, and meowed when she played. Also known as You Are So Adorable. When she and I were alone I told her she was my favorite.


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