Sunday, August 27, 2006


Mom was behaving in an awfully suspicious manner the other day. After watching TV at lunchtime, she got out the PTU (Prisoner Transport Unit aka pet carrier). I was worried that she was going to put me in it, but she left the house with it empty! Very strange. Perhaps she was taking it to the dump to get rid of it. Good idea, I thought.

A long time later she returned. But it wasn't empty any more. She set it down on the floor for me to see what was in it. I couldn't believe my eyes and nose!

I was flabbergasted! Mom started muttering things about "Adoptathon" and "Humane Society" and "overcrowded with Cats" and "homeless Cats" and "poor Kitties" and "needed more room for more Cats" (she also mentioned d-o-g-s, but I refused to go there.)

I was not at all ready for this and not at all sure I liked it. Mom kept saying "Good Kitty," "Nice Kitty" but I was too busy being indignant to notice.

Here's Mom's excuse:

The local Humane Society Shelter has had an overabundance of pets needing homes. With more coming in than they had room for, they sponsored an Adoptathon to try and find homes for as many pets as possible, especially for those who had been at the shelter for a long time. So they put the word out through the local media. That's how Mom found out about it.

The little Cat Mom brought home had been turned into the Human Shelter when she was a kitten, having been found in an area neighborhood. That was back in early June. By late August, she still hadn't been adopted, until Mom brought her home that is. Her estimated age is about 4 and 1/2 months.

Humph. I can tell you why she hadn't been adopted. She's a wild Cat! She runs and jumps and bites and claws and wrestles everyone and everything. Try putting a kittenishly cute fireball into the arms of a 4 year old who has just said "Mommy can I hold the Kitty?" and see what happens. Instant "back-into-the-cage-we-don't-want-THAT-Cat" action.

My problem is that she isn't the least bit daunted by my growling and hissing and swatting at her. She still wants to play with me. But I'm mad enough that I refuse to play. I refuse to like her. I refuse to cooperate.

Fortunately for me (and everyone else) she has absolutely no stamina. Since she spent the last 2 and 1/2 months in a little cage, she poops out real quick. So when she gets feisty, Mom plays with her until she's tuckered out and takes a nap. Mom tries to tell me it's my job to play with her (Mom also has the nerve to suggest that I might need the exercise) but I tell Mom no.

Not that anyone will be interested, but Mom is making Me put this picture of the intruder on my blog.

So my world is turned upsidedown at the moment and I don't think that I like it.

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At Sunday, August 27, 2006 1:17:00 PM, Blogger Eric and Flynn said...

Poor Rascal. We unnerstands that you is upset, an we's sorry furr you. But just fink Rascal, she was a poor little kitty wiv no furreffur home. That's probly why she's a bit wild.If you can bring yurself to get to know her, then you can be a big broffur to her an teach her all yur tricks of the trade.One day you may be Sir Prized to find you are best frends.

At Sunday, August 27, 2006 1:40:00 PM, Blogger The Meezers said...

Rascal, we fink eric and flynn may be right. you can be her big brofurr and teach her all the bad stuff so that she will get blamed for it.

At Sunday, August 27, 2006 2:15:00 PM, Blogger Cecilia said...

Rascal, you have a sister! Congradulations! I know at the moment she seems like an intruder, but I know you will accept her soon. And then you can play and run and teach your sister all your tricks.

At Sunday, August 27, 2006 3:24:00 PM, Blogger Beau Beau & Angie said...

Ohh such furry interesting colors she has. We bet you'll be likin' her soon enuf. Don't get too close though acoz I can betcha she'll be sneezing and haf a cold before you know if from the stress of a new place efun if it is a nice new place.

At Sunday, August 27, 2006 10:56:00 PM, Blogger Wm. said...

Rascal, this is pretty exciting! She looks a lot like my biological sister--how cool is that? Anyway, maybe you can get your mom to name her Sardine. That's what I wanted Olivia's name to be.

At Monday, August 28, 2006 2:06:00 AM, Blogger Grr, Midnight & Cocoa said...

she looks lots like little baby KC offur at Missy's blog, 'cept she's bigger. that's furry nice of yur mama ta go save a sweet kitty frum the horry-bull place! whatcha namin her? our Lady's human sister just got a kitty an she let her almost 3 year old daughter name her. the kitty's name is now Umbrella

At Monday, August 28, 2006 2:48:00 AM, Blogger Kitty Cats Corner said...

*jumping up & down excitedly* ITS A TORTIE!! ITS A TORTIE!!

Ahem - sorry about that. We are pretty keen on tortoiseshell cats. Just look at our family!

I know, I know Rascal. You dont like her. But look at her! She's adorable. heehee Although Fireball is probably a good name for a tortie. *wink*

Purrs - Your furrends over @ the Kitty Cats Corner

At Monday, August 28, 2006 9:02:00 AM, Blogger Latte said...

Awww...yeah! Oh Rascal, you are going to loooove her in a few weeks. I love my little Kaze kitten, she's a very nice playmate and blanket. I'm so proud of your mommy for helping out this VERY pretty little kitty!

The more kitties the better!

P.S. Kaze stayed in her own room for a week until we got to know each other. It was nice to be able to sniff her and then she'd go away when Chase and I got upset about her stinky smell (she STUNK!). Eventually with a wand toy to play with we became fast friends.

At Monday, August 28, 2006 10:10:00 PM, Blogger Emma's Kat said...

I agree w/everyone, you will see how fun she can be and like her in no time! What a cutie she is and yes she does look like ML's KC!!

At Tuesday, August 29, 2006 1:04:00 PM, Blogger Victor Tabbycat said...

Oh, Rascal. I can relate to the little intruder. I wants to be Bonnie's furiend, but she won't let me. Yur mom has done a good fing. Maybe you can play wif her like wif a shoelace unner a door or sumfing.

At Tuesday, August 29, 2006 1:07:00 PM, Blogger Bonnie Underfoot said...

Oh, Rascal. Poor, poor Rascal. My condolenses. Hang in there... don't give in and, whatever you do, DON'T show her any affection. Victor's been here 10 whole months now, an I'm holdin my ground. I said NO TOUCHING, an I meant NO TOUCHING. Touch me again, and I'll touch you... wif my big strong PAW.

My woman still thinks I'll get used to it. HA! I'm furry stubborn.


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