If I caught your attention, give me a quick comment. Thanks!
As I continue to search my purpose in life, I realize I’m not alone in this. I’ve heard suicide rates are soaring in China and other places. Where I live, there’s a huge run on drug abuse.
If I offer you a 20 dollar bill. You’d take it, right? What if I crumple it up? You would still take it. What if I throw it on the ground and get it really dirty? You would still probably take it. It’s 20 dollars, after all.. Jesus is the best “Gift” ever. He’s been with me through so much, I don’t know how I would have gotten this far without Him.He was crumpled, beaten, abused, and understands me.
Because of Him, I’m a part of a royal priesthood, though I haven’t found my great purpose for life. Can anyone relate? This fact is found in 1 Peter 2: 9 “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light.”
As I have been ill for over 10 days, I’ve really looked at my lack of going out to be with others. I have an inert need to do for others. Not doing so, makes my heart sick. We weren’t put on the earth to be lone rangers. We are also to “not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another– and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10: 25) Jesus is coming back soon. Be blessed.
I am not a camera hog like my siblings. You can see Milo very clearly, Button may be in back of us. As you glance at my eyes, you can tell there’s knowledge and understanding there: obviously.
I too, am part Tuxedo, part Tabby. All I know is, my mommy always tells me, daily, that I am “just so beautiful”. You know, after hearing that all the time, ya start believing it.
I can tend to be a modest, mother hen type. I don’t really speak all that often. My mommy even commented, recently, when I meowed loudly. She said she had forgotten how my meow sounded. I’m ok with that. Being part of the the trailer four (see Milo’s story) I know I have a very good life. I basically have no need to meow like a mere cat.
I know my job/assignment. I make the rounds touring and checking out whatever the siblings are into. If they are merely napping, which is most of the time, I’m good. I, then, check on Mom and Dad. I love on and nap on Mom. I love on and sleep with Dad. I try to keep Susie Q in line. Button tries to pull rank on me ocaisionally, but not often. Button and I compete for title of Mother Hen of the house sometimes. I think she’s funny. I let her have her way, at times, because I’m above reproach and acting out.
Don’t get me wrong. When Mom starts to love on me and maul me like she does AJ, I let her know, I’m not a baby. I have even growled at Mom from time to time.
I am a sleek, royal, beauty that deserves/commands respect. I take care of the house. I take care of my humans. I deserve respect.
Oh, Mom says I have to tell this. When there is a storm, rain, loud noises….I look to Mom with eyes the size of dinner plates. It’s such a rarity. I get super curious and look to Mom for guidance.
Yep, me and Mom. We are the Moms and I get to sleep in Mom’s room and lounge across the bed like royalty.
Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful….. (that used to be an actual human saying: was it on tv?)
Being a handsome tabby with a lot of white markings, Mommy says I remind her of a cat she had before. His name was Alley. (Yes, “Alley Cat”)
I have a cute pink nose. Just ask my mommy. I am adorable. I get cattitude with all my sisters, at times, and Mommy has to put me in my place. What am I to do? I got 5 sisters! Aggg.
I act like a pest, according to them. I have tamed my doing this, recently. I only do this stuff if I feel really compelled. Inevitably, one of my sisters will growl and let Mom know, and I get hollered at.
I came into the house as a baby, as did my sister: Emma. We weren’t quite 4 months old when we got our furever Mommy and Daddy. (ya know I mean forever) We roamed to woods, trailers, houses and tried to get food wherever humans were. We were two of many, Many. These caring men would sit on lounge chairs, outside their trailers, and just shake a bag of cat food. Having no real home to speak of, we knew to come running. These men had paper plates of food and about 30 of us would come running from wherever we were. They also had a big bowl of water. I sort of learned to share via having to share/get my nose in the bowl for water with many others.
I’ve been known to be a pest, not stupid.
I used to get into more trouble. I had big ears and had to grow into them. My daddy referred to me as “Yoda”. He would flatten my ears a bit and I’d make a “face”. (what’s a yoda?) I walk all over my dad and tour the house regularly.
I give equal time to Mom even though I know she’s gonna maul me. She loves on me, calls me her “Yiddle Boy” and head bumps me. She comments on my cute pink nose. I purr very loudly and love her bunches.
I have gained weight and am coming into being more mature, but will always be Mommy’s Yiddle Boy.
Bet you thought I was going to talk about humans and something deep…. Nope.
My cats….in lieu of doing an eventual book about my cats and their lives and dialogue….let me introduce Button and Emma. Emma is in the forefront and has very long hair. She is merely four years old. Button is one of the original “trailer kids” I got as a package deal of 4 kitties.
This was a photo Mommy caught of my showing little sister around. When Mommy brought Emma and her brother: AJ home, Emma and I looked at each other like we were looking in a mirror. (what’s a mirror?) We became fast friends and groom each other daily. I feel maternal about Emma.
I actually feel maternal about most of my siblings. I feel especially maternal and protective of my daddy. I walk the house with him, when he’s home. I walk as his body guard. I told Emma Dad is the best. He is!
I’ve been letting my heart open more to Mom, though. Emma is slow to do that. She just knows Mom always wants to comb, groom, flea bathe,…Emma doesn’t see Mom as fun. Mom bribes her with treats, though. I’m not a fan of treats and my love can’t be bought.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m overweight. I might weigh in at 13 pounds. Daddy says I’m just fine. Dad’s the best!
About me: I’ve been known to announce loudly, times for meals. I am the spokesperson. I have an internal clock and a loud voice. I project!
Oh. When Mommy tries to project, sing, play that blasted piano…..I run. I have super sensitive ears and don’t prefer Mommy’s voice. I love Daddy’s voice.
I sleep with Daddy. He gets home late. I try to “mother” him.
Emma is shy about opening up today. I’ll speak for her. Being her mirror image/sister, I can tell you she is a daddy’s girl too. She sleeps with Daddy. She stands up on her hind legs (almost like a human) and grabs daddy’s hand/arm. She has fluffy, furry hands that are comical to watch as they grab Dad. Emma is a Hemingway and has extra fingers. When I say it’s comical to watch all of that hand grabbing for Dad, it really is. She’s a riot. She also likes to spend most of her time out on the catio. (enclosed patio for cats) She only likes to share her time VERY selectively.
“I am not”. “I am not a Suzie Q!” (whatever that is) You see, I have much more respect for myself than that.
I would do just about anything for treats. I like the blue box of Temptations treats, best. Many times, Mommy has me in her bedroom with her, we watch tv together, and she gives me treats. What a life!!
I prefer when Mommy lets me sleep with her. She puts me out of her room sometimes, at night. I then, have to go find a safe place away from my siblings, where they won’t torment me for being “Mommy’s Pet”. (teacher’s pet)
As cats, go, I’m confused about my actual age. I know I’m older than the youngest of the household: they are merely 4. I know I’m not as old as “Shadow”, who is 15. Ehh….oh well…..
I actually came from being a bit of a socialite. I was carted around to nursing homes where I’d purr big for any human who would pet me. Most humans found me irresistible. One day, the nice lady took me and a big “dog” creature to a home where there were old people and I wore a leash while being carried around. I went by my proper name then: Susan B. Anthony. I’ve always known I was special and destined for greatness. Then, it happened. The human carrying me, handed me off to another human who said I was cute. I was doing my purring act, big time. Everyone in the room talked about me. I purred louder.
The human who now held me, caught direct eye contact with me, and we knew it was fate. All my special “tabbiness” let loose. I stopped my acting. This human said: “Awww”… We fell for each other. This human came to the (Hu)Mane Society where I was staying, the next day. She did paper work and took me home with her.
I am one of the brothers. Don’t laugh, you know you want to.
I am Milo’s brother. I was one of the originals out from under a trailer. I am a handsome Tuxedo, but am only letting you see my white whiskers and paw, here. I have a small white bib, a bit larger white heart, and a big white area between my back legs. I have white on all 4 paws, too.
If you read Milo’s story, that’s some of my back story pre- the mom and dad we have now. (and love) You see, when the officials came to get us four from under the trailer, we didn’t know they were going to take us to a place where we could get new parents. We were nervous and scared. I am a strong protector type, I really am, but when I saw them grabbing my siblings, I freaked out. Those humans didn’t seem very nice. They seemed in a hurry, too. Imagine that. They were there to “help us” but were in a hurry, as if they couldn’t be bothered with our feelings. My mommy is all about feelings and she asks us daily about how we feel. We love her.
These grabbing humans scared me so bad, I rebelled. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have. They got all mean with me and cut off a portion of my left ear. They labeled me feral. (what’s feral?) When my mommy talks to me, she tells me the story, in detail. She explains thoroughly to me. I love that about mommy. She is my favorite. She seems to be alone a lot, so I lay my long 4 foot long body across her. I weigh 12 pounds and love to eat and be spoiled.
I like things quiet and peaceful. I run when I hear loud noises, since I was once traumatized. When I hear loud thunder or other noises, I get what mommy calls a “crazy” look on my face. See, if truth be told, I can make a court jester face. Yes, I’m smart enough to know what that is. When my human parents mention this, I play up the act. They say I can be quite the performer.
Daddy says I can be quite the “lug of a love”. I love to love. Love is the best. I adore being with my siblings from under the trailer. I don’t ever want to think of how my life would be without any of them. We are a package deal.
Oh! There are times mommy goes to the mailbox and Milo stays by the front door. He acts like he’s going to go outside the house. “Ha! Mom, that’s just an act. We know from whence we came and would never leave our temperature controlled, 3 meals a day, comfy, loving home.”
I am called “Shadow”. Shadow Marie, actually, thank you.
I am the oldest of the feline family here. I am the “Queen” of the household and my siblings respect me.
I got my middle name from 2 humans. My mommy had a grandma (what’s a grandma?) whose name was Marie. She was her favorite grandma. They played that noisy piano together. The other human? That’s different story. You see, my mommy’s daughter (what’s a daughter?) was going to have a baby. Time went by and mommy thought her daughter should practice caring for another living thing. “No, she didn’t refer to me as a thing”.
Well, time went by and “daughter” had the baby. Her name is Emma Marie. I guess my mommy planned for daughter and baby Emma to take me to live with them. That didn’t happen. I’m probably better off. I know my mommy spoils me and puts up with my shenanigans.
I tell you I don’t know what “old” means. I lie on my favorite love seat and forget to go downstairs to litter boxes. I make stinky messes. My mommy reasons everything I do away. She tells Daddy: “Shadow’s just old.” I was Mommy’s first feline baby, out of the clan we have now. Mommy and I have a special bond. I barely tolerate anyone else in the whole world. Oh! I do tend to care for that other gal who was supposed to be my human Mommy. I do care for that brother of the gal who was supposed to be my human Mommy, too. They now call him my “uncle Brad”.
My human dad is tolerable when he speaks directly to me and feeds me. I let him share the house. Believe it or not, I try not to pee on his possessions, unless my siblings are goading me. Yes, I tend to be vengeful.
Before Mommy married Daddy, I used to take turns going outside and coming inside. I ruled the Florida neighborhood where we lived. One day, I came inside and had a painful thing on my arm. Mommy said someone had gotten my arm with a bee bee gun. (whatever that is) I have a naked scar to this day. My mommy took care of me, loved on me, spoke gently, cuddled me (yuck) and put some Neosporin (super yucky stuff) on me. That stuff tasted awful when I bathed myself, but, I felt better the next day. I knew, from then on, my mommy would always be important part of my life and we would love each other forever. (what’s forever?)
Different times mommy moved to different homes with me, and I had to adjust to being in a different place. I usually adjust easily, but, I recall one night mommy and daddy went to bed and I was in new surroundings alone with lights out. I called out loud and L-O-N-G : “Mommmmmmm”. I didn’t say meow, I knew this was serious and I had to speak human speak. I was disoriented. My mommy came to my rescue and loved on me abundantly stating I called out the human word: Mom.
Mommy never lets me live this down. She brings it up often. Daddy even refers to my calling out “Mom”. That’s what I’m known for…..oh well, I could have a worse legacy…..
I am naturally atop the ladder, because of course, I am the alpha male feline in our household of 8 felines. I am brave and daring. I am the “king”. My mom calls me: “Milo My Love”!!
My human parents got me, Miss Button, Mr. Cody, and Miss Sable when we were about 4 years old. That must have been 5 or 6 years ago. My human Mom was volunteering and was involved with adopting/fostering/rescuing cats with the Humane Society. The four of us were far away from where Mom and Dad lived, but we were special. We were found under a trailer, hovering together, keeping each other company. We were a package deal. Not everyone can take 4 cats into their home at one time. We’d been taken care of but our caretaker could not care for us any longer, had a substitute come and tend to us now and then, but that sure wasn’t good enough. We were nervous and fearful.
Protecting our human parents, I am the one who goes to the door first, I check out new bags and boxes and everything new in the house. I protect our whole household. I love my humans. I knead my parents and eventually lie down on them. Sometimes they say that can be annoying.
I’m said to be similar to someone they called “Alley”. He was apparently a kitty they had many years before me. He also liked to knead a special way (ha!) and eat spaghetti sauce. (not to mention cantaloupe)
I’m a red tabby who can tend to have allergies. I currently have many scabs on my skin, and black ear wax. My mom takes Qtips to my ear wax. I’ve been known to take steroids for my allergies. That helps me be more of the alpha male of the household. My siblings know I am the “king”. I am one of the 3 male kitties of our home.
My parents put all 8 of us in the cars and drove us 1000 miles, over a year ago. Five of us were with mom, 3 were with dad. We were in cages and cried a lot. We survived. We figure: anything our parents do to us, we must need it. (Even when they bathe us with water…..I don’t care for that much)
Heinz!!! Been working there 10 days now. What a relief!!!
With my extreme allergies and our finances attempting to go “south”, we prayed and quoted Matthew 18: 19. “Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my Father which is in Heaven.”
We touched our box of bills, (we have,) and touched our hands together on my forehead and nose….while talking to God together.