DUmmie FUnnies 01-21-05 ("Did you hear the Freeper on NPR?")

Finally, someone else who "trains" their cats. The first kitten I adopted, my vet told me, "cats can be trained just as dogs can be trained, most people simply don't do it". So my cats all answer to their names, know the meaning of "down" and "no" and other tricks. One is very good at "roll over". They are very interactive - each of them has invented a number of games to play with me - the games vary from cat to cat.

They are southern cats though - don't like the cold - wouldn't even stick their little noses outside on a day like you describe.

Thank you, Madam.

The first cat was rescued from a Wal-Mart parking-lot; I hd seen some jerk drive by, and toss a grey-and-white cat out the window. It took a few days, but I caught the cat, Abbie.

Then some days later, I noticed, ooops, the right cat was still prowling around Wal-Mart (I do not work at Wal-Mart; I happened at the time to be working near Wal-Mart), scared and lost. It took a few days, but I finally caught the right cat, Snow.

Abbie was neutralized in time, but Snow got away two days before her own operation, and came back pregnant. That is how Junior, Apricot, and Floyd happened. All of them grey-and-white.

Gordon and Harold were farm kittens someone did not want, and George had belonged to someone else, but preferred to live here (a lot of wide-open spaces--no streets--and a river to explore).

Ellie, I got just five weeks ago; she was a little orange kitten about 1.8 pounds--VERY miniature--someone picked up off the highway. Her tail was broken, she had ear-mites, fleas, worms, and a bad cold. I was astounded when the veterinary pronounced her to be circa "six months old," but so tiny, ostensibly from neglect and malnutrition. That was a month ago; Ellie is now nearly 4 pounds, and the pink of health, and shows every indication of growing into a confident, competent, comfortable cat.

I assure you I am not a cat person, Madam; I can live very well without them, but the deal is, these cats are better off with me, than they had been, or if they were somewhere else. And like dogs, they are undeniably loyal to the hand that feeds them.

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