Things You Might Not Know About Me

Welcome to my blog. YESSSSS! It's all about ME—Stunning Cathy Keisha! You all know how stunning I am; but there probably are some things that you don't know about me. I'm an only cat right now. This wasn't always the case.

When The Woman (Can you believe I used to call her Ma?) and Pop came to the shelter, they were looking for two cats to take the places of Autumn and Nicky (more about them in another post). My name in the shelter was—get this!—Kittee. Yeah, they had an imagination. They begged TW and Pop to change it.

The other cat they adopted was named Mitzi. Mitzi's Mom had a stroke and was in the hospital. She had about 20 cats which they didn't think she'd be able to care for when she got sprung. In yet another stroke of genius, TW and Pop decided they were gonna call me "Kitzi." Get it "Mitzi and Kitzi." Now you get the idea of what I have to put up with.

I hid under TW's bed the first 2 days after I was brought home but then decided to explore. The first place I went was under the dishwasher. You know, I moved a couple of things around; and, what do you know, I got to meet the Super later that night when he had to come to fix a leak under that dishwasher. Guess who got blamed?

Meanwhile, Mitzi was still under Pop's bed. When he went to hospital to have back surgery a week later, she was still under that bed. TW fed her under the bed. Every once in a while, I'd come in to poke around. Once I did get her out and chased her up one end of the bed and down the other a couple of times.

Finally, TW had enough and called the shelter back. It turns out—or at least they told her—that Mitzi's Mom was OK and wanted her back. Took TW and Robin from the shelter about two hours to finally get Mitzi out from under the bed and into a PTU. What an ordeal!

After Pop came out (of the hospital, that is), they decided I needed a "real" name. They always believed that cats should have "real" people names and not stuff like "Princess" or "Bootsy." Seems Gramma always wanted a "Cathy" and since she died never having a "Cathy," they decided that would be my name. I took the Keisha part cos I'm from da hood; the mean streets of Jersey City. I wanted to keep part of my roots. Ya heard!

Anyways, that's the story of the cat known as Mitzi, who was my sister for about 10 days—all spent under the bed. The photo on top of this page is the only known photo of Mitzi that exists. The funny part is, I thought this was MY blog about ME, not her.