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 PetFinders.com.

In October, Ma says she "didn't know how good she had it" and gave in. She started looking at PetFinders.com, 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

Earth

Quake

Devastation

Pain

More pain

Being swallowed

by Mother Earth

A country of

amputees

Aftershocks

The animals

Ran

Scared

Where are the peeps?

Where are the houses?

Where is the food

and water

they need to survive?

Panicked

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 FaceInHole.com 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.