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Gotcha Day: My Furever Home

OMC, where am I? Are these peeps old or what?

Today is it! My 4th Gotcha Day! I can't believe I've put up with the peeps for 4 entire years! Just call me St. Keisha. Ma hopes no one gets offended by the language cos it's me talking a little smack. She wouldn't use certain of the same words I did back on that fateful day.

My furever home! Bring me some nip, pronto!

Back on January 29, 2006, my peeps were at adoption day at the Hoboken Animal Hospital for quite some time when Pop saw them bringing in more cages. "THERE SHE IS!!!," his eyes shouted with joy and love as he spotted the carrying case that I was in. As usual, I was fighting them as they tried to put me in a cage.

I looked around at the few humans there and as I looked at my future peeps, I thought "Please don't let the old farts take me home! Look, he can hardly walk. How is he gonna play with me?" Then I glanced at the other couple. "Good Lord, they're FROGS. I don't want to live in France." When I realized it'd prolly be one or the other, I sulked in the back of my cage. I keep coming to these things, but I'll never be adopted, I thought to myself. Woe is the pussycat!

Pop pointed me out to Ma who came over for a look-see. For some reason, there was a note on my cage that said "Play bites." How's that for discouraging the masses! How's that for false advertising! It didn't seem to dampen Pop's spirits. Then Mlle. Frog came over and commented to Ma how clean I was. I heard Ma say "well, she's my cat. I'm adopting her. You can't have her!" "Will I be going home with the geezers," I wondered. Or will I be going back to Hillsborough yet again?

Ma was in a snit because they lost the adoption papers she filled out online. Then they confused her name with someone else's and told her they couldn't let her adopt. Meanwhile, Pop was still of the mind that he wanted 2 cats. Ma found a little black and white tuxedo who was still in a carrying case and thought she was sweet looking. She was 5 years old, female and small; the criteria they were looking for. When Ma finally filled out the adoption papers once again, she asked about taking Mitzi too. Would we get along?

The woman said they could bring us home and see if it was going to work out. They didn't have space there to let us have a go. There are no fight this time as they put me back in the carrying case. I was going home with the seniors; like it or not, I was going to have a HOME. No more being kept in a cage.

Looking smug on the expensive Tibetan rug

I'm sure you all know that when you bring cats home, you should leave them in the case awhile until they get their bearings. Well, the CAP lady needed the cases back so we were let right out. Mitzi ran under one bed; I another. I described what came next in my first ever blog post. I had a home!!! I had a furever home!! I would never have to go to another adoption day!

My $99 atmosphere bed which I just gave away

After I started walking around, I favored one paw from being cooped up in a cage for so long. The shelter would let us out at night but I was still cramped up all day. After a while, I stopped favoring it and started my reign of terror on Ma, who later went for tests which revealed she does indeed have quite a severe allergy to cats. She's taking meds so she doesn't have to give me up (as if Pop would allow that to happen!) However, I may have spoiled it for any cats that want to live with my peeps in the future. The other night when I was singing before bed, Ma shouted something about never having another cat after me. I was the last! HAH! I've heard that before!

So that's how I came to this furever home. This home full of Yankee swag and kitty love. I love my Pop even if he can't play with me a lot.

Even though this is the last part of this story, there is still a lot more of my life to come since I plan to live to be 37 years old. And, guess what, I'll still be stunning!

Gotcha Day: A House w/o A Cat is NOT a Home!

I hope you read part 1 of my story, which told why the peeps were in the market for another cat.

After losing Nicky and Autumn within 10 days of each other in August, the peeps didn't want to rush into getting another cat. Ma suspected that she was allergic to cats. After getting Nicky, who slept at her feet every night, her throat kept closing up. Then after they took Autie, she had a recurring eye infection. She figured she'd see if she got better w/o a cat; of course, not knowing that cat dander can stay in a house for a couple of years, no matter how well cleaned it is.

Their friends were determined that they get another cat or two. One kept calling to tell her about kitties that her friends rescued who needed homes; another had a friend who worked at a shelter that would personally deliver the kitteh of Pop & Ma's choice. She also told Ma about

In October, Ma says she "didn't know how good she had it" and gave in. She started looking at, specifically at Companion Animal Placement's cats. CAP was the rescue organization who they'd adopted Autumn from for Grandma. Her throat wasn't feeling any better so she figured it wasn't the cats. On first look, the peeps didn't find that special cat, even though I was one of the cats listed that fit their criteria. They were looking for a young cat, though not a kitten; a female since none of the male cats they ever had lived to be 10 years old; and a small cat cos Pop was having back surgery and wouldn't be able to lift a large cat like Nicky. Ma sent Pop links to a couple of calicos that looked like Autumn but nothing came of them. Pop wanted to get two siblings, who would get along unlike the two they had. Finally she gave up.

In December, she started looking again. This time, she sent Pop the link to my PetFinder page. (Sorry about the dead link. Apparently CAP has gone out of business and have removed their cats from PetFinder.) This is what Pop read: "What can we say about Kittee (that's me!)? She's definitely got personality and character! These pictures don't do her justice, we'll have to take more to show her true colors! One minute she is calm and the next....she's off chasing something, exploring, climbing to the top of the cat tree. Very playful, energetic, and athletic. Kittee is young only about a year old and will allow you to pet her and pick her up until she's off to the next adventure!" The rest is history. It was love at first sight for Pop. He knew he's found his girl. I was starting to get a bit antsy in my cage, not knowing if I'd ever find that furever home that others spoke in hushed tones about. I'd been taken from a kill shelter in Jersey City months earlier and was now in a kennel in Hillsborough.

This was one of my PetFinders' pictures.

Ma filled out the online adoption application for me and sent it in along with a note for them to please make sure I was at the upcoming Adoption Day at the Hoboken Animal Hospital on January 29th. They wanted to meet me to see if we bonded. What the hell was she talking about? Pop didn't care; he wanted me!

The 29th came and Pop's back was so bad, he could hardly stand up. They got to Hoboken full of excitement but I was nowhere to be found! Ma played with a long-hair named Ashanti and Pop admired Gunther, a huge Maine Coon. Ma wanted to pick one and go home. Even though Pop was in pain, he wanted to wait. They told him there might be more cats coming. He held out hope that his little Kittee would be one of them.

On Friday, I'll post part 3. Would I show up in Hoboken? Would I ever find a furever home?

Poem 4 Haiti

More pain
Being swallowed
by Mother Earth
A country of
The animals
Where are the peeps?
Where are the houses?
Where is the food
and water
they need to survive?
Who will help them?

Help us help them this weekend. Donate to the World Society for the Protection of Animals during the January pawpawty. I'll be spinning tunes for y'all from 8-9 pm Saturday night.

I Salute Dr. King

Today we celebrate the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I'll do it in his own eloquent words. This is Dr. King's Acceptance Speech, on the occasion of the award of the Nobel Peace Peace Prize in Oslo, December 10, 1964. He is the great inspiration to me, a cat from the hood.

Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, Mr. President, Excellencies, Ladies and Gentlemen:

I accept the
Nobel Prize for Peace at a moment when 22 million Negroes of the United States of America are engaged in a creative battle to end the long night of racial injustice. I accept this award on behalf of a civil rights movement which is moving with determination and a majestic scorn for risk and danger to establish a reign of freedom and a rule of justice. I am mindful that only yesterday in Birmingham, Alabama, our children, crying out for brotherhood, were answered with fire hoses, snarling dogs and even death. I am mindful that only yesterday in Philadelphia, Mississippi, young people seeking to secure the right to vote were brutalized and murdered. And only yesterday more than 40 houses of worship in the State of Mississippi alone were bombed or burned because they offered a sanctuary to those who would not accept segregation. I am mindful that debilitating and grinding poverty afflicts my people and chains them to the lowest rung of the economic ladder.

Therefore, I must ask why this prize is awarded to a movement which is beleagured and committed to unrelenting struggle; to a movement which has not won the very peace and brotherhood which is the essence of the Nobel Prize.

After contemplation, I conclude that this award which I receive on behalf of that movement is a profound recognition that nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral question of our time - - the need for man to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to violence and oppression. Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts. Negroes of the United States, following the people of India, have demonstrated that nonviolence is not sterile passivity, but a powerful moral force which makes for social transformation. Sooner or later all the people of the world will have to discover a way to live together in peace, and thereby transform this pending cosmic elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood, If this is to be achieved, man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.

The tortuous road which has led from Montgomery, Alabama, to Oslo bears witness to this truth. This is a road over which millions of Negroes are travelling to find a new sense of dignity. This same road has opened for all Americans a new era of progress and hope. It has led to a new Civil Rights Bill, and it will, I am convinced, be widened and lengthened into a super highway of justice as Negro and white men in increasing numbers create alliances to overcome their common problems.

I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the "isness" of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal "oughtness" that forever confronts him. I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.

I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of thermonuclear destruction. I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. I believe that even amid today's motor bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow. I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men. I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive good will proclaimed the rule of the land. "And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid." I still believe that We Shall overcome!

This faith can give us courage to face the uncertainties of the future. It will give our tired feet new strength as we continue our forward stride toward the city of freedom. When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds and our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, we will know that we are living in the creative turmoil of a genuine civilization struggling to be born.

Today I come to Oslo as a trustee, inspired and with renewed dedication to humanity. I accept this prize on behalf of all men who love peace and brotherhood. I say I come as a trustee, for in the depths of my hear! I am aware that this prize is much more than an honor to me personally.

Every time I take a flight, I am always mindful of the many people who make a successful journey possible - the known pilots and the unknown ground crew.

So you honor the dedicated pilots of our struggle who have sat at the controls as the freedom movement soared into orbit. You honor, once again, Chief Lutuli of South Africa, whose struggles with and for his people, are still met with the most brutal expression of man's inhumanity to man. You honor the ground crew without whose labor and sacrifices the jet flights to freedom could never have left the earth. Most of these people will never make the headline and their names will not appear inWho's Who. Yet when years have rolled past and when the blazing light of truth is focused on this marvelous age in which we live - men and women will know and children will be taught that we have a finer land, a better people, a more noble civilization - because these humble children of God were willing to suffer for righteousness sake.

I think Alfred Nobel would know what I mean when I say that I accept this award in the spirit of a curator of some precious heirloom which he holds in trust for its true owners - all those to whom beauty is truth and truth beauty - and in whose eyes the beauty of genuine brotherhood and peace is more precious than diamonds or silver or gold.

Pawpawty attire

I'm afraid I'm as guilty as the next cat or dog but I can't understand why anipals want to dress up and be like humans. They don't have nearly as cushy a life as we do. They're responsible for wars, poverty, greed, pollution, dog-fighting, in short, everything that's wrong in this world. On the other hand, we just have to eat, sleep, play and look cute or sometimes stunning. Our fur is also a lot lovelier than that skin they have. I dunno if the phenomenon has to do with our Mom's pretending to be us (actually the people they dress us up as) or us anipals not feeling entirely comfortable in our own fur.

It started for me at the Down on the Farm pawpawty. We found a picture on the web of a sexy girl near a tractor and through the magic of PhotoShop and InDesign, I became that girl. I thought I was really hot! The mencats whistled and so did the doggies.

For Hansee and Poppy's wedding, I stole, er, BORROWED a dress from my good friend Beyonce's closet. While I had a lot of fun, I couldn't help feel like someone other than myself.

We use all the time. It's a lot easier than PhotoShop and has a great selection of poses. My only gripe would be not enough black woman. I'll prolly continue to play dress up at the pawties but I can't help thinking that we're losing a bit of ourselves in trying to become humanized. We're beautiful just the way we are—on 4 feet covered in soft, silky fur.

Gotcha Day: the Autumn & Nicky years

I'm going to do a series of the events leading up to my Gotcha Day, which was January 29, 2006. Unfortunately, it usually works out that in order for a cat to have a Gotcha Day, another cat has to go Over the Rainbow Bridge and this story would be no different.

Ma and Pop moved into this "luxury" condo in 2003 with their 2 cats, Nicky and Autumn. Nicky had come up to Pop on the porch of their old house in 1997, looked him in the eye, meowed and rubbed on his leg. Ma shooed him because they were already feeding lots of strays and couldn't take another one. She also thought he had a furever home since he was so domesticated. He came back the next night and soon after, he would become a member of the family. This is Nicky in his early slim days when he was allowed to go outside. He grew to 22 1/2 lbs.

Autumn's life wasn't that cushy. She was found in the woods with a couple of newly-born kittens and an infected toe that had to be amputated. The peeps had gotten her from Companion Animal Placement (CAP) for Grandma, whose cat had just went OTRB. Grandpa had passed away the previous year also and they thought she needed company. Ma said she wanted Autumn from the moment she saw the sign on her cage that said she was one toe short of a full deck cos she didn't think anyone else would take her. Autumn was a real sweetie and Grandma and Autumn loved each other unconditionally.

Autumn in Pop's lap.

After Grandma had Autumn for about 8 years, Grandma became sick and when she passed, Autumn lay on the pillow next to her, refusing to leave her side. She got her closure. The peeps brought Autumn over to their place and introduced her to Nicky. They didn't get along from the get-go. Nicky wanted to smell Autie's rectum and she'd have none of it so Autie was sent to the basement to live. Her adventure there ended when a good-intentioned tenant let her out to play in the garden. She soon wound up a living flea infestation. The entire basement and house had to be bombed and she had to be dipped twice to remove the little pests. She then went to live in the peeps' den. Once they moved to the condo, she got complete control of Pop's room and things began looking up for her once again. She became happy and playful, a side of her the peeps hadn't ever seen.

La-di-da, things went on peachy keen until 2005 when Autumn started barfing and refused to eat. The vet said she had a tooth and gum infection and gave her antibiotics but she didn't get better. They took her to another vet, who discovered her cancer. A scan revealed it had spread to all parts of her body and the peeps tearfully decided to have her put down.

Can't we all just get along?

Since the two cats constantly fought, the peeps thought Nicky would be thrilled to be able to roam the house w/o closed doors; however, something was terribly wrong. He became withdrawn and just lay on his "Yankee" chair. They took him to the vet after he spent the night on the chair and his breathing seemed shallow. While at the vet, he began shaking and hyperventilating. He was having some sort of seizure. The Vet thought it might be a lung obstruction and sent him home with meds. When Ma came home from work that night, she knew that something was wrong. Even though he ate, he kept walking around in circles like he didn't know where he was. Around 8 that night, he started convulsing. Pop tried to keep him still and covered him while Ma frantically called every vet in the phone book who claimed to have emergency hours. None of them did. (Vets should not be allowed to lie about things like that!) She finally found one in another county, a hour's drive away. The hour seemed to last forever.

Nicky was in the carrying case screeching like a banshee; a sound the peeps didn't know a cat could make. He was shaking and panting. Ma was getting hysterical too. At the Oradel Animal Hospital, nurses met the car, grabbed the case and ran into the examining room. By the time the peeps came in, they had him in oxygen. It was like going to a people hospital trauma center. They, too, didn't know what was wrong with him. If he was an outside cat, they said he could've been poisoned. It could be an embollism, was their guess. They would keep him in oxygen all night and the peeps would come back the next morning for him. The price tag would be astronomical.

Ma and Pop debated. The thing that worried Ma was that he had obvious brain damage and would be like a vegetable and she didn't want that. A week and a half after Autumn went OTRB, Nicky joined her. Ma had no more tears left to cry that night after crying so hard for Autie less than 2 weeks ago. They were both numb. They decided no more cats for awhile.

Stay tuned for Part two.

Honest Scrap Award

The cat's out of the box, so to speak. Yesterday, I get a Tweet from my furrend @Mariodacat informing me that I was a recipient of the coveted Honest Scrap Award. Talk about shock! I didn't think anyone read this blog of mine, let alone thought I should win this Pulitizer equivalent.
Mario just started doing his blog and he has a real flair for writing. He said this award was given to "bloggers who put their hearts on display as they write from the depths of their soul." Yeah, that's me.

So, thank you Mariodacat for this award. I accept it for stunning cats who blog all over the world.

10 interesting facts about Cathy Keisha

1. I'm stunning and I love it. My Aunt Pauline was the first to call me stunning after Ma e-mailed my PetFinder bio to her before I was even adopted.

2. I have a cute little curl at the end of my tail.

3. My eyes can change color from green to amber depending on my mood.

4. I never roll over on my back.

5. If I did, you'd see that my tummy markings resemble a white bikini. (more about this some other day)

6. I coo like a pigeon when I want attention (like now).

7. I really want to win the Bissell MVP Photo Contest so please vote for me if you haven't already.

8. My original name at the shelter was Kittee and I was adopted along with another cat who I quickly banished from my house.

9. I sleep on Ma's pillow because I know she's allergic to cats.

10. I'm the world's most stunning cat!

11. (I'll give you 11 because I kind of repeated one) I like going into my carrying case. I don't like going to the V-E-T though.

Now I have to present this to 10 others. I hope I don't repeat any since I don't know who's won this before me. I love Snowydaze's blog. It never fails to make us laugh so hard we cry. I wish he'd write more but not everyone has as much time as we do. I'm a tuxedo cat so this makes sense. My good furrend Frugaldougal! Where else would I get my info on when the next pawpawty is going to be! TOONCES!! It's not really a blog but it has some great rules to live by for cats. He gave me a Catitude Award last year. I was the 1st tuxedo to win one. Ai and Ruckus are 2 handsome cats. I love Yoda. He's a great furrend and fellow pawpawty dj. She's my girl. A sista who's not afraid to say what's on her mind. She knows I'd take a bullet for her. What can I say about Buttons. She's such a sweetheart. I can't wait to read her posts. Everyone knows BJC and knows that her heart is in the right place. Even though she hasn't written about me yet, I love her and her Mom. Her blog is dedicated to people, anipals and organization who make a difference.

Now if I can cut this award into 10 equal pieces, I'll pass it along to these deserving bloggers. I can finally go to sleep.

Waiter, There's No Duck in my Duck Sauce

It was very cold again today so when Ma went out for the her walk, she decided to buy some soup for lunch. She decided on egg drop. Ok, that sounds pretty yucky; however, they gave her crunchy noodles and something called Duck Sauce. "Duck Sauce." Let it roll off your tongue. "Duck Sauce!" Score! I didn't know that they made a sauce out of ducks but my mouth was watering. Talk about disappointment!

"Hello? Better Business Bureau? Yeah, I have a complaint. THERE'S NO DUCK IN THIS DUCK SAUCE! It's got fruit stuff in it. How can they get away with the misleading name?"

My apologies to @GeorgetheDuck and @Nippers_Duckie.

Vote Today For Cathy Keisha!

As you can see, I've entered the Bissell MVP Most Valuable Pet Contest. I hope to do better than last year when I got all of 21 votes now that I have the backing of all my Twitter and FB furrends. I don't need to win the picture of myself on a Bissell product. I'm so stunning that will just help make more dough for a multi-million-dollar corporation. I'm looking to win the $10,000 donation to the pet charity of my choice. That would be so cool! It would also be nice to win a new vacuum for Ma even though the Electrolux Harmony we have is extra quiet and should be required in all houses where there are pets. Even I'm not too scared of it.

Now what are my favorite animal charities? Bet you thought "that CK is selfish and only thinks of herself." Wrong. Ma has always been a card-carrying member of PeTA but they get enough $$ from Chrissie Hynde and other celebs. In no particular order, here are some of my charities.

Popcorn Park Zoo in Forked River, NJ. They rescue animals from circuses, zoos, animal shows, etc. who are abused or about to be destroyed; or as they describe it "a sanctuary for abandoned, injured, ill, exploited, abused or elderly wildlife, exotic and farm animals and birds." Ma and Pop have visited and have gotten to feed the animals. They are a part of the Associated Humane Societies and get moneys from them, still it's nice to sponsor a pet.

Companion Animal Placement, which is the organization that rescued me from the Liberty Shelter, a kill shelter. They don't really have a web site or any fancy bells and whistles. They work out of my V-E-T and have a shelter in Hillsborough, NJ where I was housed. I'm sure they could use $10,000.

Cat Haven, a rescue organization for homeless cats and kittens in the Baton Rouge, LA, area. Why Baton Rouge? Ma's friend moved down there a long time ago and works with them. She's a vetinary assistant. She helped save Ann Gora after her fur came off. We know any organization she works for has to be good.

Brookes Legacy Animal Rescue in Naples, Florida. My Aunt Karen volunteers with them. As their site says, they are all about second chances and all their pets were about to be euthanized the day they saved them. It was named after a human, Brooke Ashley Miller, who died way too young.

If I should win, I'd be open to other suggestions. But these are my main charities.

Starting January 8, please vote for me. Vote early and often. Thank you and God bless.

A Look Back on the Holidays

To celebrate the Epiphany, I find myself looking back at my Christmas and realizing I did pretty darn good for myself. And now as I sit here drinking nip nog and wait for the woman to play with me, I'll describe all the loot I got from furrends and family.

Ma and Pop gave me that super great tunnel from SuppliesJust4Pets that I run back and forth through about a hundred times a day, plus some smousy toys and kitty treats. I got a nice smousy toy from my Aunt Pauline and her 4 cats and Aunt Mindy and Uncle Muggy gave me some jingly balls (which seem to wind up under Ma's big feet all the time) and a scratching post with a feathery toy on it. I've been scratching on it but Ma hasn't captured it on film yet. I get a kick out of Ma's screaming every time she slides on those balls.

If that loot wasn't enough, my pawpawty prize came from SidtheCatahoula on the day after Christmas! Sid and Lisa sent me treats, toys, TUNA, even a collar! I am so lucky to have them as furrends.

I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays as much as I did. I had my Pop home for over 2 weeks and a real tree in the house. I didn't put on any weight, unlike the Peeps. BTW, that real tree is actually growing shoots from all the branches!

If I haven't mentioned it, my Gotcha Day is at the end of this month, so I expect even more loot to come my way! Salúd, dear furrends. I hope we can end animal abuse and find homes for all the shelter kitties in 2010. Peace out!

My Pop—I think I'll Keep Him!

At the risk of being labelled a "Lolly cat," I'm coming out as a daddy's girl. I've always hated labels so why not. Now let me explain how I bonded with Pop.

A week after I landed in my furever home, Pop was scheduled to go to hospital for "major-major" surgery. That was a dreadful week. Ma would leave the house at 8 am and not come home until after 9 pm. I was all alone in an unfamiliar place. I took out my frustrations on Ma, biting and scratching and refusing to let her pet me. After Pop came home, he stayed with me day and night for about 6 weeks. I nursed him back to health by laying next to him and keeping him company. I hardly ever left his side. Still he couldn't pet me more than 3 times. Below is a recent pic of my cuddling up against Pop. There's enough to cuddle!

Even after Pop went back to work, he was so good to me. He's the only one I let hold me and the only person I'll purr for. Still, there's the occasional slip-up where I viciously attack him and draw blood. Oopsy! Don't I look so comfortable in his arms?

I like my Pop because he's almost as furry as I am. He always calls me stunning. We formed a bond that cannot be broken. I'd be Pop's girl even if he didn't order that new cat tree for me. Wait, did I say that?

The disappearance of CK

Sunday at my house is laundry day. One thing I don't understand about laundry day is why, in 2010, the woman sees the need to segregate the whites from the "colors" and isn't "colors" a derogatory word? (It feels good to finally get that off my chest.) Anyhow, this is a fun day for the cat because first she gets to lay on the sheets while the peeps are trying to take them off the bed. They don't like that for some reason.

What they like even less is when I lay on Pop's clean—and very colorful—Old Navy boxers. Hey, these clothes are nice and clean and they're warm. What can be better than clean and warm for a cat looking for some place to sleep. Besides, if it's that important to you, you should put these right into the dresser.

After supper, TW finally put away the clean clothes in her closet. I rarely get to look into, let alone get into TW's closet. I jumped at the chance. Before you knew it, I was asleep and TW had gotten on the computer. Pop asked TW several times if she knew where I was and she didn't. (Cue the SINISTER MUSIC) Just where was Cathy Keisha and did anybody care?

Unbeknownst to the peeps, that dastardly HHGut had locked Cathy Keisha in TW's closet. When I woke up, I started desperately scratching at the door to no avail. The tv was on and the peeps were otherwise occupied. I was losing hope that I'd ever be rescued. "You'll never get out. You'll die in there," taunted Guttierrez. I heard Pop asking about me again and then I heard him get up.

It was Pop to the rescue. He finally heard the scratching and rushed to open the closet door. I was free! Pop had once again saved me! He was once again my hero! Unfortunately, the peeps don't suspect a thing. They haven't a clue what my political enemy, HHGut, did and that he was responsible for my being locked in the closet all evening. Pay back is a bitch; and, make no mistake about it, pay back will come for HHGut. When he least expects it. He's now got a bulls eye on his back. You don't mess with this cat from the Hood.

Bless Bess, What A Mess!

Our kitchen floor is the cleanest kitchen floor on the planet. The Woman doesn't use any poisons on it; she uses either dish soap and water, Method all-surface cleaner or the steamer I gave her for her birthday. We have the cleanest kitchen floor. Have I mentioned that? It's so clean, you could eat off it; and it should be because I do eat off it. Well, I have a dish and placemat but do prefer putting the food on the floor. I won't tell you about the inside of the fridge since TW's been Tweeting for me but you probably know and I don't have to eat off it. As long as it doesn't inconvenience the cat …

On Thanksgiving, we had the turkey incidents. First, Pop sprayed the raw turkey juice all over the place and out came the steamer to sanitize it. Then, after the turkey was cut, the discovery was made that someone cut through the pan and, again, the counter and floor were full of juice. The steamer again came to the rescue. It cleans and sanitizes. Everyone should have one. The Peeps haven't eaten red meat since 1980 and TW says this year we may stop eating white meat too.

For New Year's Day and Easter, they make Virginia Ham. Again, it's the only time we eat ham. I really, really like it although the gravy is really, really sticky. They give me my own plate! We were going to have the leftovers today. Sounds like a plan, right?

Yesterday Pop went to the Pathmark and while TW was putting away the goods, she moved the ham gravy to make room. Oopsy, wrong move as it wound up on the floor. All over the floor to be precise. I would've gotten a good laugh except it was my feeding time and I certainly couldn't go step in all that sticky mess. Also, my package from SidtheCatahoula had come and I couldn't wait to open it up.

Sticky gravy and chunks of pineapple were splattered as far as the eye could see. It was under the refrigerator and oozing onto the nice wood floor in the foyer. TW let out a shriek like I didn't know she was capable of and rolls of paper and cloth towels were pressed into service. Then, TW got a Pathmark bag to put the sopping wet paper towels in and pour the little remaining gravy in and, guess what? when she picked up the bag, it had a big hole and that gravy dripped back on the floor only in yet a different spot. TW spent the next 20 minutes or so down on her knees scrubbing that floor again. Her nice slippers were totalled too. (Can you tell, I'm stifling a laugh?) But the cat was thinking food.

Finally, by the grace of Cod, I made my way over the pass-along or whatever they call it and Pop gave me my skipjack tuna. Tonight I ate my food off the cleanest kitchen floor on the planet. News Flash: the cat did not get blamed for the mess. As for the peeps, Ma made another mess of gravy with orange juice, pineapple, pineapple juice, brown sugar, ground and whole cloves.

I've Got Mail!

At the last pawpawty, I won my first ever prize by answering a question about one of the Hot MBC cats. The prize was offered by my furrend @SidTheCatahoula. It came in the mail today and was even better than I could've imagined. "Hmmm, what could be in this package with my name on it?" My feline curiousity got the best of me and I tore it open.

Wow! A smousy laser toy and some tissue paper! And that's not all!

Whoa! There's also a collar (try getting that on me, woman!), some nip toys, a can of TUNA and chicken treats! I think I'm in love with Sid and Lisa. Oh, and they wrote me a wonderful note.

I posed for the camera with my newly-won swag. It's like Christmas all over again.

Nothing could be more fun than a catnip toy mixed up in some tissue paper. I don't want to tell Sid how I totalled that pretty paper but the toy is still intact. Thank you again Sid and Lisa for the super great prizes. I'm still all excited that I won a prize. I've never won anything before in my life. Anyway you look at it, I'm a winner because I have the best furrends in the world.

Flashless Friday

Yesterday was flashless Friday because the woman could not take pictures of me. Her camera battery died. Hee hee. I was safe to do all sorts of cute things w/o fear of that bright light going off in my face. Hmmm, I may start wearing sunglasses this year. I AM a star dj and Twitter cat.

I don't know why she'd think she needs more photos of me because there are over 800 of them on the computer now. Stunning photos, some of them are even in focus! (Shock and awe!) I'm doing everything imaginable, outside of dancing the hula or baking a pie.

For your viewing pleasure, here's a picture of me from New Year's Eve next to my Christmas stocking that actually has a stunning, though upside down, picture of me on it.

The case of the missing herring

Since the turn of the last century, my peeps have always had pickled herring for supper on New Year's day. They would continue the tradition this year. The herring was bought on sale months ago and kept on the top shelf of the fridge.

We had ham for the big meal and I was promised raw fish—herring—for supper. Yum, that sounded good. My appetite was whetted. The time finally came and the table was set. But, wait, where was the herring? The main attraction had disappeared from the fridge. Both peeps denied throwing it out even though Pop got the evil eye since he'd tossed yogurt from the top shelf this a.m. The peeps then turned their attention to me, of course, just because I'd had some anipals over to climb the tree and on another occasion to keep me company. I AM NOT GUILTY BY REASON OF MY INNOCENCE! I want my mouthpiece. I KNOW what happened to the herring and I didn't do it.

It was THE MEXICAN CAT! Ma has this gray cat who looks a lot like me what sleeps on her bed. His name is Hernia Hernandez Guttierrez (pictured w/me), or HHGut. It just happens he had a New Year's Eve party last night. Put 2 + 2 together and you'll see where I'm heading. I get blamed for a lot of things that he does, like biting the peeps.

Anyway, they ended up with cream cheese on the special party rye that Pop bought specially for the herring. I ended up hungry and angry that I was not only denied fish, but I was accused.

This is the 1st day of the rest of my life

As a New Year present to all my furrends, here is another stunning picture of Ms. CathyKeisha. I love my peppermint stick cos it's not really peppermint, it's catmint.
New Year's resolutions, I've made a few. Well, not really. It's hard to improve on perfection.
Have a Happy Healthy Prosperous 2010!