Monday, July 15, 2013

Abijah the Cat



You might've heard that people don't own cats, that it's the other way around. It's true. My person found me when I was just a few days old, starving and freezing under the camellia bush beside the garage. My eyes weren't even open. She brought me inside where it was warm and bottle fed me until I could lap milk.

I didn't really like the idea of her turning the house into a B&B, but she didn't ask me. I've learned to stay out of the way, especially if any of the guests have children. I don't like kids. I don't much like anybody but my person--Penelope Pembroke. And since this Sam guy turned up...well, let's just say he's my least favorite person of all. He shuts doors and shuts me out.

I'm quite fine these days. The vet told my person I needed to lose weight, but she still gives me treats. I'll admit it's getting harder to jump up in the bay window in the kitchen, but I can still do it in a couple of tries.

Where do I sleep? Anywhere I want to, thank you, but usually on Penelope's bed. I've trained her not to wiggle around much.

She has a friend, Mary Lynn, who's always giving me dirty looks and saying she wouldn't let a cat sit at her kitchen table. But recently there was some sort of crisis--I never did figure it out exactly--and my person disappeared. Mary Lynn came in twice a day to feed me and make sure my litter box was clean. She didn't give me treats though. I didn't like that.

Well, it's time for my morning nap, and there's a nice sunshiny spot in the bay window, so I'll be going now. I won't say thanks for stopping by--but be sure to tell everyone just how fine I am. Toodles.

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