Reader Anne offers photos and a story about her multiply-named cat:
Our kitty is the most beautiful kitty in the world, at least as far as her face is concerned. These days, the rest of her is starting to resemble a football. She’s also a bit short on brains, but she makes up for it in whiskers – and her vocal opinion of every affront we subject her to.
I can’t even remember how long I’ve had her. She was a stray, but had been hanging around the edge of my yard a full year before she decided to move in. She disappeared, then came back the next summer and that was it. I have suspicions that she may have come from the nearby meth house that was busted, but have no way of verifying that. We live in a military town, and unfortunately sometimes pets get left behind when people get transferred. She might have been one of those pets.
Kitty has gone by a number of names – Squeak, Princess Peachpit, and Stinky Cat to name a few. These days it’s just Kitty or Stinks. When we moved into our house three years ago, she had a hard time adapting to the move and spent quite a bit of time hiding in strange places, including next to the toilet or behind the washing machine.
She finally settled in, and I’m happy to report we’ve just purchased the house and get to stay. She’ll be able to live out the rest of her life in relative peace – though the older male kitten that keeps coming around to play stresses her out a bit. I think it’s good for her – keeps her on her toes!
The only time I curse the cat is when I’m constructing elaborate yarn fences to keep her out of the vegetable garden. It works, for a while. She seems to be catching on that she’s not supposed to use the garden for her litter box. Maybe she does have a few brains after all!.
My husband has a funny tradition to send Kitty off to bed outside every night. He flashes the patio light off and on, and says, “Disco Cat! Disco Cat! Disco Cat!” She loves it, I’m sure. Just as much as she loves it when he cleans the floors or plays his guitar, we have visitors, or when the wind blows.
Kitty brings us joy, angst, and the occasional infected wound – I can’t imagine life without her!