The Story of Cats… in the life of Sarah, that is…

This is the second part to my post all about cats.  Cats are wonderful.  Cats are the superior species, in my opinion.  All cats, including big and wild cats.  I ❤ cats!  I’ve never known a life without them, and I don’t even want to imagine a life that didn’t include them.

In this post, I will be talking about our current cat family members.  All nine of them.  Nine seems to be the limit for cats in our four person family.  We’ve always ended up with nine.  It’s like the Universe designated this number for us and will fill the spots as it deems fit.  None of our cats have ever lacked or wanted for anything.  They are pampered and loved, each of them getting plenty of individual attention.  They are not suffocated with affection and are treated with respect; and are treated like the royalty that they are.

We also give our cats official names, multiple nicknames and really great back stories.  We are an odd family, but we are a great one… if you’re a cat.


*I generally celebrate Finding Days, rather than birthday’s for cats.  The Finding Day is their birthday celebration, it’s just the day they joined the family, as actual birth days are less certain.

*We all have names for ourselves and reference them for the cats:

  • Dad = Pappy (grandpa)
  • Mom = Habu (grandma)
  • The Sister = Faerie Lady (or mom if the cat is hers)
  • Auntie/Grand Auntie = Me (except if the cat is mine, then I’m mama)

*We have certain terms for cat parts or things cats like:

  • Paws = Pee-Paws
  • Mouth area = Muzzle Pooch
  • Treats = Kitty Cookies
  • Wet Food = Willow Food
  • Cat Toy with pole and string = Cat Fisher
  • Colourful Toy Mice = Babies (as in “Where is your baby?”  “Go find your baby.”, etc)
  • His/Her/Their Baby Time = when they were a baby; a kitten.
  • The Kitty March = making biscuits/kneading.
  • Nutter = when they cats are being weird, we call all of them nutter or nutters instead of crazy.


Scully in her baby time



This tiny kitten had been abandoned and living on her own for about a month.  She was nesting in our garage and in an old car in our backyard.  We’d hear her cry, but couldn’t get to her.  We were constantly leaving food and water out for her, because we’ll never let a kitten starve if we can help it.

Scully at Christmastime.

She started coming to our breezeway for food and allowing me to sit out there with her while she ate.  I was never allowed to get too close or to touch her.  Patiently we would inch closer with each feeding, letting her get used to us.  One evening I sent my mom out there with the food, intending to come out there in a minute to be with this kitten while she ate.  It was starting to storm, and my mother happened to be so close that she reached out and grabbed the kitten.  But it thundered and lighteninged right at the same moment.  My mother called to me, “Do you want this kitten?  Come and get it off of me.”

Scully in her baby time.

The kitten had bitten down on my mothers finger and wouldn’t let go because of the storm noise.  I laughed and then carefully removed her from my mom’s finger and wrapped her in a towel and took her to the upstairs bathroom that The Sister and I share to get more adjusted.

The Sister had hoped that this new kitten would be hers.  She was watching The X-Files, when they were being rerun on TBS.  There were three epis per night.  As soon as the music started for the first epi, this kitten would run in there, scramble up on the couch with The Sister and watch the show.  After the last epi’s theme music ended, this kitten would leave.  I named her Scully because like the character of the same name, she too was red and fussy.



However, Scully ended up choosing me!  Is she not just the cutest?!  Her Finding Day is on Halloween (only because I denoted it as Halloween, but it was sometime in October), and she’ll be twelve this year.  She is our oldest cat family member.

She is an alien of the Mothra species (if You’ve seen the animated film Monsters vs Aliens, she pretty much is the monster named Insectosaurus).  She was trained in cat ways, and given a body altering cat suit.  Her mission was to help take over Earth for the other Mothra’s.  She did not succeed, as she crash landed and forgot about the mission.  She was not trained very well, because she doesn’t really know how to cat.

She is shy.  She adores me and I can touch her pretty white pee-paws and her fluffy belly, but she doesn’t care much for other family members to do the same, though she will come up to greet Pappy and Faerie Lady, but never Habu.  She is very friendly towards other cats, but does not like other humans and will either hide away from them or scowl at them until they leave.


She likes dry cat food and kitty cookies.  She also likes licking plates that had buttery milky goodness or meat drippings on them.  She does not eat actual meat or other human foods.


Official Name: Scully (named after Agent Scully from The X-Files)

Nicknames: Scullybug, Alien Kitten From Beyond The Stars, Alien Baby Mothra

Species: An Alien of the Mothra species pretending to be a cat.

Likes: Kitty Cookies, Butter and cream drippings, The X-Files theme music,

Disposition:  Friendly to cats, shy around humans

Habitat:  She is generally found in my bedroom or adjoining room.  Sometimes she can be spotted in the home office.




A friend of ours purchased him in another state, drove him down here and threw him at us.  We’d already told her we didn’t wish to make the purchase or add him to the family.  But, when she got here it was either we keep him or she’d take him to a kill shelter, so we traded some Body Shop products for him, since that is what The Sister and I were selling at the time.  Because no cat is going to a kill shelter if we can help it!

Bunny made friends with the butternut squash.

Sadly, Bunny was already a year old when we got him and did not integrate well with the other cats at all.  He’s not a bright cat, but he’s really super sweet… to humans.  He adores humans.  To cats, though, he will stalk them, corner them, and attack them, never stopping unless you put a pillow in front of him so that he doesn’t remember what he was doing.  We try to keep him separated as best we can from the others.  But, for better or worse, he’s part of the family and you never leave a man behind.  We couldn’t get rid of him!

Bunny. Notice the head plunk/loaf of bread sleeping position!

His official name is Pookie Theodore Sputnik, but we simply call him Bunny.  He also goes by the names of Bad Bunny, Large Arctic Bunny, Bunny Bread, and Ragnarok (because he’s so bad).  He is a large Arctic Bunny after all.  They’re trained up young to be super assassins and spies and thwart the threat from the World Dominating Penguin Organization.  He was kicked out the academy though, because he wasn’t very good at it, and sent far away to a place where the one’s who aren’t meant to be to best of the best can live out their days in comfort.

Bunny doing The Kitty March

He chose The Sister to be his mother and Willow as his baby.  But he primarily resides in Habu and Pappy’s room being spoiled by them.  He is the second oldest cat in the family and his Finding Day is in January, because he’s seems wintry.  He is nine this year.


Official Name: Theodore Pookie Sputnik (named after Theodore from the Chipmunks, Garfield’s teddy bear Pookie, and the Russian Space Satellite Sputnik)

Alternate Names: Bunny, Ragnarok, Bad Bunny

Species: Large Arctic Bunny of the Arctic Bunny Assassins League.

Likes:  Stalking, being creepy, sleeping, following humans around.

Disposition: Adores humans and tiny baby kittens.  Detests other cats.

Habitat: Mainly found in Habu and Pappy’s bedroom.  Sometimes he is seen in the Faerie Tower or other places throughout the house.



Me holding Willow in her baby time.


It was late spring and dad somehow managed to mess up the blades on the lawnmower, so he sent The Sister and I to Walmart to fetch a replacement.  And… we came back with a kitten.  Walmart used to allow people to sell or give away pets on the lawn out front, but they’ve since stopped allowing that.  Somebody was giving away free kittens and I merely wanted to visit the kittens; to say hello.  The Sister said no, but we stopped to see them anyways.  There was a black and white one that was catterwauling something awful and then this little tiny puffball who was as quiet as can be.  We turned to leave and some woman was screaming to someone else about free kittens and The Sister said, “That’s my kitten!” and we went back to claim her.

Willow approving the final paper work.

And all that bit about being quiet and demure?  It was all a ruse.  She probably clawed her sister prior to our arrival or told her that humans like really loud cats.  Because when we got her home she was crazy.  Oh, she was good and really friendly and enjoyed being at our house, but she was having too much fun, more fun than her supposed disposition should allow.  She was running around and screaming happy meows and tearing things up.  Then we fed her and she slept.

Willow adored the kitten art that her mommy made.

And, I, being a good Auntie purchased her a new toy.  It was like a Weeble Wobble toy, where it will rock, but won’t fall down, but this one had a felt bird and some feathers attached.  Willow was so tiny, that she batted at it and it came back and hit her, because the toy was too big for her.  She was perfectly fine and it was rather funny.  She tore the heck out of that toy for hitting her.


Bunny adopted her as his baby, and she gets along with all of the Siamese quite well; the Gingies, not so much.  He alternate name is Faerie Kitty, because she’s the queen of the Faeries, or was, but now she’s a cat.  She will only eat pate wet food, which is why it’s called Willow food, and milk kitty cookies, and her own brand of dry food (different from what the other cats eat)… if she has to.  She’d rather only eat the cookies and the wet food.

Willow… kicking herself in the face.

She is our third oldest cat and her Finding Day is 30. April.  She is eight this year.  When she’s really happy, she’ll roll around on the floor and kick herself in the face.  o_O  Also if she’s really, really, super happy, she’ll suck on the end of her tail like it’s a pacifier.  She loves her tail, it is its own being.


She loves to have her photo taken and will generally get into frame when people are taking pictures of anything.  She also approves of art or other papery things by choosing to sit on them.  If she didn’t sit on it, then it doesn’t meet the highest appointment of kitty approved.  Also, she likes to do Yoga stretches with her mom.


Official Name: Willow (named after the tree)

Alternate Names: Faerie Kitten, Super Fluff Kitten

Species: She is a cat now, but in her previous life she was a Faerie Queen.

Likes:  Photo shoots, Yoga, Paper, Art,

Disposition:  Generally prefers only the company of humans, but will tolerated The Siameses and Colonel Mustard.

Habitat: The Faerie Tower.  Can use various hidden portals to enter into Faerie Land at will.  Also sometimes she is spotted in the laundry room.


The Baby in his baby time.

The Baby:

When we visit Petsmart we always visit the inmates, which The Sister uses the term for the cats, but I use the term for all of the animals.  I like to go and say hello to all of them, but of course we always go to see the cats and say hello.  Once when I was saying hello to the rodents, there was a couple there with a small boy about age five.  He looked at me and said, “We should set them all FREE!”  The Petsmart worker glared at me, like it was all my idea, but I looked at the kid and said, “Excellent idea, little man.  Excellent idea.” and he beamed at me.  We didn’t set them free, of course, but both of us would have really liked to.

The Baby helping me make coffee.

Anyways, on this one particular December day, I decided to go and get the cat food first and then visit the inmates.  The Sister came running up to me and saying, “Sarah!  Sarah!  I found him!  Come look!”  I went back with her to the cats and there was the most adorable dark seal point Siamese kitten.  We’d wanted another one since losing our life-long friend, Nuttmegg.  We both held him and he chose us to take him home.  He was the one.

The Baby has important business to attend on the computer.

Dad’s really big into saying, “No more cats.” though he adores them.  We placed the cardboard box in front of him and his eyebrow shot up and he said, “This better not be a cat.” and we kept quiet though it was hard to contain our own glee.  He opened the box and peered inside.  Closed the box, tried not to smile, and then opened it again, brought the kitten out from the box and nuzzled him to his face.  I mean how could you not want to?  Did you see that adorable kitten up there?


The Baby

His official name is Thai Tushka, which means Thai Warrior.  Dad wanted to name him Thai and our Choctaw friend suggested Tushka which means warrior and dad liked that too.  Generally we just call him The Baby or Big Brown.  He is a wombat from New Zealand and some how made his way all the way up here to Mississippi and we rescued him.  He also does not like his original finding story.  Probably because The Sister says that we purchased him from Petsmart and he will make severe fussy face at that.  If we re-tell the part about dad, he gets happy.  He also likes when I tell him he is a wombat or looks like chocolate chip cookie dough.

The Baby

He is our third oldest cat and his Finding Day is 18. December, he will be six this year.  All the humans and cats adore him and his is nice and kind to all, though the Gingies do trample into his space too much for his liking.  A family friend when she first saw him, held him in her arms and couldn’t exclaim enough how adorable he was.

The Baby

If he had his way he would live on kitty cookies, but they are treats not food, so he will also eat dry food, and that’s it.  It doesn’t like meat or fish or even drippings of things.  He does not like people to touch his tail unless he’s being petted.  If he brushes his tail against you, it’s your fault, and he will be upset.  Also, it’s easy for him to feel like you’re following him when he’s the one in front and you’re just trying to get by.  If this happens, he’ll get confused and turned around and end up getting lost in the corner of the hallway and he’ll be mad… and it’s all your fault.


Official Name:  Thai Tushka (named for a person from Thailand and the Choctaw word for Warrior)

Alternate Names:  The Baby, Big Brown, Baby Thai-Thai (mom’s choice), Wombat, Raccoon, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Kitten.

Species:  He is a Wombat masquerading as a cat.

Likes:  Kitty Cookies (and I can’t stress that enough), peace and quiet, air conditioning, Perry Como music, being brushed.

Dislikes:  Thunderstorms, rain, dogs, the Gingies running him over, getting lost in corners, the laser light.

Disposition:  Prefers solitude and sleep.  A very serious cat, but is friendly towards all of the cats and all humans.  If he’s in a loveable mood, he won’t leave you alone.

Habitat:  Mostly found in Habu and Pappy’s bedroom, or else mine.  Can also be found all over the house including The Faerie Tower.  Will hide under a couch if there’s rain.




Colonel Mustard in his baby time

We’d never had a Gingie family member before, so we adopted one from the local shelter.  And he couldn’t be more perfect.  We went in and right away this little guy ran straight up to us and was ready to go.  No other kitten did this, though I did check around to see if anyone else was interested.  Nope, just him.  He had been waiting for us.  Several other people came in to look at kittens and he didn’t pay them any attention.

Colonel Mustard… too big for the chair.

We’d been playing Clue, so we named him Colonel Mustard and that is his first honorary baby picture up there.  All of our cats have their first portrait, it’s just not all of them are easily saved through the years, but having these uploaded online is really great.  Anyways, he’s not sad, he’s a very serious and ancient souled cat.  He is also very long-legged with an abnormally long tail.

Colonel Mustard taking care of his new baby, Marzipan

His homeland is Africa.  He is part Cheetah, Serval, and Lion and he is imbued with the wisdom of the ages and with great magic and power.  He was sent here specifically for us, it’s just that he got a little lost along the way and had to wait for us to find him.  He is also an excellent mother, and has no qualms about being called such.  All the babies that came after him, he took them to him and claimed all of them for his own.  They’re all his babies and he loves them.

Colonel Mustard

He will eat just about anything, including fish, meats, butter drippings and Willows leftover offering of her food to the peasants.  His Finding Day is 15. March and he is now four.  He tries to keep a certain decorum in the house and keep his babies in line.  He also trumpets when he runs through the house and will make odd meowing sounds when he wants your attention.

Colonel Mustard lounging

When he wants your attention you will know.  He’ll scream at you or paw through your hair with his pee-paws or drag your hand over to his face.  He’s been known to jump people as well when he wants attention.  He doesn’t know his own strength.

Colonel Mustard attending to important office duties.

When he wants attention he’ll lay down anywhere.  Making himself comfortable, no matter the obstacle.  He’ll purr and trumpet and meow and make a mess wanting you to pet him.  And we always do.  How could we not give him love?  He also tries and sometimes manages to get outside.  He wants to play with bugs.

Colonel Mustard is always too big for things, but he’ll sleep on them anyway.

Colonel Mustard believes that he is very tiny.  He will try and make do on our tiny surfaces and pretend that he does fit.  Also, it hurts his feelings if you tell him he’s really large.  He thinks you’re lying and just being mean.

Puff-Puff and Colonel Mustard

He still loves his babies.  Though they do tend to get on his nerves from time to time and he’ll choose to have nothing to do with them or else bop them on the head, they still come to him to cuddle and to have their heads bathed and a lot of times he’ll comply.


Official Name:  Colonel Mustard (named after the character from the board game Clue)

Alternate Names:  Kanga-Kitten, Africa Cat, Mj⌀lnir, Mj⌀l-Mj⌀l.

Species:  He is part Lion, part Cheetah, and part Serval.

Likes:  His babies, playing with the cat fisher, fish, Willow Food, all the humans and all the cats (except Bunny), playing with bugs.

Dislikes:  Bunny, not being paid enough attention to, the laser light, his babies being bad or pestering him.  Not being let outside.

Disposition:  A very stoic and serious cat.  Very lovable.

Habitat:  Mostly in various rooms of the house.  Can also be found in Habu and Pappy’s room, The Faerie Tower, or my room.


Marzipan in her baby time.

We found this little girl about two months after Colonel Mustard.  There’d been a kitten screaming for two days.  I’d randomly hear it, but couldn’t pin-point where it was.  By the second evening of her being abandoned I saw her across the street just screaming in a ditch.  I crossed our yard and when she saw me she wanted to run to me, but a car was coming.  I told her to wait and she did.  I crossed the street and she ran straight up my body into my arms and wouldn’t let go and purred the entire way back to the house.

Marzipan in her baby time.

When I got her inside she screamed and screamed because she was so hungry and I couldn’t heat up milk fast enough for her.  She drank two bottles full and screamed in between breaks and when it seemed like our heads would explode from all of her screaming, she was finally full and fell fast asleep.  We hadn’t wanted her to eat too much too quickly, but she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she was full.  And after her gorge-fest and her long nap, she was a perfectly normal little kitten.

Marzipan in her normal Chipmunk-Squirrel sleeping position.

She’s a super friendly cat… but only to humans.  Unlike Bunny however, she’s a tough skank street cat.  Met her cat father one day, and she’s just like him.  Mean and tough.  But she’s super tiny, so she’s not as intimidating as him.  So having a spit-fire personality, but being the tiniest cat we’ve ever had, she wants to make sure that no one fucks with her, so when she passes a cat she does a hiss and hit warning and continues on her merry way.  None of the other cats dare to challenge her.

Marzipan. She only looks ginourmous because of perspective and because The Sister is also really tiny.

Dad came up with her name.  “Let’s call her Marzipan.”  After The Sister and I said that was a really great name, he added, “What is marzipan?”  Which made us laugh.  The fact that it’s semi-sweet and so is she is absolutely spot on.  She likes all of us well enough but her heart belongs totally to Pappy.  He’s her human and there’s no doubt about it.  If he’s watching WWII films, she’ll cuddle up beside him and watch them as well.  Other wise she cuddles up next to him on the blue blanket she stole from Habu and nurses on the blanket while he pets her until she falls asleep.

Don’t be fooled as there is just perception trickier afoot. She really is super tiny!

Because of her ferocity and her apparent love of WWII films, I nick named her Marzinpanzer, which is a combination of her name and a Nazi Panzer tank, which were light weight, just like her.  She thinks it’s rather fitting.  She’s also the only cat in the house to issue a battle cry when hunting.  MAAAoow is issued from her tiny muzzle pooch like she lives on the streets.  I also use this exact call when I have found something for her to hunt, or there is an offering of leftover wet food from her Faerie Majesty, Willow.

Marzipan’s very first baby photo, right after she fell asleep from filling her hollow belly.

Dad wants to use it all the time to call her, but I’ve told him that’s it’s only for super important things, and not frivolities, or she’ll never come when called by it.  And come she does.  She’ll race through the house towards me and illicit her own war cry and wonder where the food or the prey is.

Marzipan in her baby time.

Though she is a very tiny cat, she believes that she is rather large and ferocious.  She will hit you if you tell her she’s tiny, as she feels you don’t respect her enough.  She also makes the cutest, wonkiest faces I’ve ever seen.

Marzipan and her Twinny Twin-Twin, Faerie Lady.

Second to dad, Marzipan adores her Twinny Twin-Twin.  The Sister has ended up dressing exactly like Marzipan, though not on purpose, on several occasions and Marzipan thinks it’s the best thing ever.  Again don’t be fooled.  The Sister is also very tiny, so Marzipan appears to be larger than she is.  I’m not kidding, this cat is practically miniscule!  OK, not miniscule, but she really is very small, even for a girl cat.

Marzipan hunting prey

Her Finding Day is 01. April and she is four.  She, as I’ve stated before, is a skanky alley cat.  She will eat anything, which pleases dad.  So, he can give her fish guts and unsavoury things you or I wouldn’t eat and she maows for more.  So besides cat food, kitty cookies, Willow food, food drippings and actual meats, she will also eat all the other things as well.  Her and Colonel Mustard also enjoy bread, though we don’t give it to them.  Strange cats.

Marz…ipan attacks! Oh-ho I’m so punny!

She is a tiny Chipmunk-Squirrel who fell out of the nest during a storm, but in her previous life she was battle hardened warrior during WWII.  She still sleeps like a little chipmunk-squirrel too!


Official Name:  Marzipan

Alternate Names:  Marzi, Marzinpanzer, Sneaky Snacky Squirrel, Friendly Cat.

Species:  She is a Chipmunk-Squirrel.  Also in a past life she was a human male.

Likes:  Pappy, WWII films, cat fisher, laser light, kitty cookies, fish guts, Willow Food, hunting, attacking, giving love bites, drinking water from the tap, her blue blankie.

Dislikes:  Bunny, not catching the prey, other cats thinking about possibly messing with her.

Disposition:  Serious and tough.  But super friendly and lovable to humans.

Habitat:  Mainly where ever Pappy is, or else in one of the kitchen chairs, or on her blue blankie.



Puff-Puff in his baby time

By the end of October, there was another kitten in distress.  Again across the street.  The Sister and I were leaving to run errands and my super keen kitten hearing kicked in.  “There’s a kitten in distress!”  “Oh… go on then.”, she replied and errands would have to wait.  I went across the street and there was the tiniest puffball Gingie in the engine of a green Ford Ranger.  I couldn’t leave him in there for someone to be unaware and turn the engine on.  I couldn’t get to the kitten though and needed the bonnet raised, so I knocked on the door.

Puff-Puff in his baby time.

The house contains college boys.  They’d had a party and apparently tons of people were still there so I had no idea who would answer the door.  They thought it was weird that some strange woman was at their door in the late afternoon when they were still a-bed, but when they heard it was a kitten emergency, they were all help.  Well, except for one jerk.  Out of the six college guys, one suggested turning on the engine and that would solve the problem.  The other guys didn’t think this was funny at all and that made me pleased.

Puff-Puff looking very alien.

With tuna and the Ranger owners long arms, he pulled the cold and hungry kitten out from behind his tire-well.  There was a collective “Awww!” when he emerged from all of the college boys (though not that mean one) – (and in the retelling of this, I tell Puff-Puff that there was light shining on him and angels singing, though no such thing happened.  But he does so loves embellishments.)  He snuggled it, and the kitten was passed from boy to boy (though again, not to the mean one) and then back to the original boy who opened the door and a girl who was dressed like Sailor Moon.

Puff-Puff dreaming of scoring food with a resounding fist pump and you know he’s thinking, “Yes!”

“I don’t even like cats, but he’s just so adorable!”, was all she could say.  They didn’t want to let the kitten go, but realized they couldn’t keep it because the mean boy and his dog would eat it.  So, they handed me the kitten and the girl asked, “Will you name it Ranger?  To remember today… and us by?”  Of course I would.  So, his official name became Ranger Puff-Puff and he loves to hear his finding story every time that I recount it.

Puff-Puff; doesn’t know how to cat.

We generally just call him Puff-Puff or Puffling, but we do still well remember that his name is also Ranger… and how could one forget Sailor Moon?  But, I digress.  So, this is a cat who does not know how to cat.  At all.  He is an alien, our third who’s crash landed here.  However, this one didn’t come to destroy Earth, he was never even meant to be here.  He is a Ranger in the Puffling Brigade with-in the race of peaceful Pufflings from Planet Pufftar.  He was simply on a Ranger Mission to another planet, but stopped by a space drive-thru for some Flufflar, which is like cotton candy.  His nagivational units started malfunctioning and though he thought he was headed for Teeklar, he was instead headed for Earth.  He crash landed in the neighbour’s yard and crawled into the truck for warmth.

Puff-Puff in his baby time with Marzipan

His first baby picture, which is the first one above, he was unsure that we mistook him for a kitten and didn’t know that kittens liked to be held and petted, so was nervous at first with The Sister holding him.  He’s still very shy and nervous, but is very friendly and affectionate.  He’s tried learning how to be a cat from watching our other cats, but his alieness just can’t help but come through.  Plus I’m not certain any of our cats know how to cat, really.

Puff-Puff attacking garland at Christmastime.

His Finding Day is 26. October and he will be four this year.  He adores food and where food is kept, as his favourite place to sleep is the dining room table.  I think he just likes to be around human food more than he actually likes to eat it.  He also loves corn leaves.  If we buy fresh corn, he’ll try to eat the leaves off of it.  Corn and aliens go hand in hand like peanut butter and jelly.  He sure knows of the alien perfectly well.  We even see his alien eyes a lot.  Like the baby alien that was born in the first Men In Black film.  Large, black eyes that pierce through your soul.  He is also the best hunter in the entire house.

Puff-Puff asleep in some clean laundry.

There’s that saying when referring to cats about them singing the song of their people.  In general cat speak that is the annoying mwraaaww they make in order to make you do their bidding.  For Puff-Puff, however, he actually does sing the song of his alien people.  He does a high tonal chirrup, but that is sustained just like singing.  I’m not even kidding.  When I say this one’s an alien, I’m being serious.  o_0


Official Name:  Ranger Puff-Puff

Alternate Names:  Puff-Puff, Alien Kitten, Puffling, Puff-Puff Ling-Ling, Lump-o-Love.

Species:  He is an Alien of the Puffling species, pretending to be a cat.

Likes:  Food, where food goes, corn leaves, his kitty mommy, love, catching prey, the cat fisher, the laser light, his brother.

Dislikes:  Bunny, not catching the prey, noise, fast movements, being told her can’t eat the corn leaves.

Disposition:  Doughy and sweet.  Very, very shy.  Can not cat.

Habitat:  Primarily spotted around the various rooms in the house.  Mainly on top of the dining room table.


Poe in his baby time.


After Puff-Puff, my dad chastised me and said “No more kittens.  No more cats.  None.  Don’t feed them, don’t bring them in.”  He says these things, but he too wouldn’t allow a kitten to starve to death.  I understand his concern, thinking I’ll want to take in more cats than we can handle, but I wouldn’t.

Anyways, a week after Puff-Puff joined the family, a lady stopped needing help with her flat tire.  Dad was outside helping her, then suddenly reappeared in the kitchen looking kind of fussy.  “Do you know where Puff-Puff is?”  Mom and I stopped playing Gin Rummy.  “Yeah, dad… he’s upstairs.”  “Are you SURE?!” and from behind his back he brought out something that was supposed to be orange and dropped the tiniest, scrawniest, dirtiest kitten onto the table.  He was happy and purring.  “Ugh… dad, this isn’t Puff-Puff.  I don’t know who this is.”  And he grumbled angrily and returned outside, knowing he’d just broken his own rule.

Poe waiting for water from the taps… so he can attack it.

Puff-Puff is very chubby, even as a kitten.  He’s just a stocky and fluffy puffball and has a lot of white on him.  This kitten was gimpy and malnutritioned and really dirty.  I don’t know how dad could have mistaken him for Puff-Puff.  But, he seemed happy and I figured he probably hadn’t been abandoned, so I put him back outside in a box with a blanket, because I didn’t want him to be cold, and some food and water for him and his mama.

The next day I came outside and he was cleaned up and groomed and the mother was at the edge of the house.  If she’d wanted him back, he’d have been gone before now.  She wanted us to have him.  I can understand why.  Being so gimpy, a male cat probably would have killed him, or he wouldn’t have made it.  She wanted him to have a better life.

You might be thinking, “Ah, you just stole a cat from his feral family.”  I have further proof.  When this feral mom loses a kitten she cries for days to find it again.  She never cried for any of these three kittens, and certainly not Poepy.  Sometimes mother cats do not want their kittens.  Other times they become separated, and can’t find each other again.

Me & Poepy on his first Thanksgiving.

Found out from dad, that the reason he thought it was Puff-Puff was because the kitten waddled quickly up the street to him, meowed and insisted to be picked up and was purring.  Dad said that a larger cat, the mom, watched him the whole time and then turned to leave after dad had picked Poe up.

So, we kept him.  I named him Jupiter Poe, after Edgar Allen Poe and a character from one of his stories.  But we generally just call him Poe or Poepy (poe-pee).  He was a lot of hard work.  I had to keep him separated because of all the work, though he was super friendly and purry and talkative and wanted to play with our other cats.  But he was severely malnutritioned and his back right paw was wonky.  It turned under and he would walk on it wrong, really sort of hopping.  So, I had to feed him special kitten food with vitamins and make sure he was getting enough nourishment and water.  I also worked with him to uncurl his back foot and learn to walk on it properly.  The Sister helped as well, and of course her and dad would spend time out on our sun deck with the new kitten.

Poepy making friends with Welshie

Any kill shelter would have had him put down immediately because of his gimp foot and nutrition deficiencies.  I don’t think so.  I can get him back up to par.  I’ll do the work.  He seemed loads better and desperately wanted to be with the other cats by Thanksgiving, so we let him free in the house and eating food all the cats eat.  But, then he turned poorly.  Sluggish and too sleepy right before Christmas.  I shouldn’t have stopped his special food as he apparently wasn’t ready.  So, I put him back on the special food diet.  I even missed going to Natchez to say goodbye to my paternal grandmother on her deathbed.  It was either say goodbye to her or let the kitten die.  I wanted to see her, but I’d had an entire lifetime with her and she knew I loved her and would miss her.  I couldn’t abandon this kitten.  I just couldn’t.  While it was my grandmothers time and I would and do miss her, it was not this kittens time, I could just feel it.


I made the right decision.  Just a few more weeks of the special food and Poe’s perfectly fine.  When he was better, we took him to the vet for his kitten shots and initial check-up.  The vet said I did an excellent job with the kitten and though his belly is unnaturally saggy and he’d had the gimp foot he was perfectly healthy and none of that was anything to worry about.  Sadly, he was probably just born wrong and nothing is from an injury, but that is good, as there was nothing else amiss.  However, even his boy parts weren’t correct.  So, when it came time to have him fixed, they could neuter part of him, but the other one they’d have to cut into him to find.  So, he had to have boy AND girl surgery, but he did swimmingly.


And all of this is why Poe unanimously chose me as his mother.  It’s not difficult to see why.  I’d have chosen me to be mother too, if I’d spent that much time and attention on me as well.  His Finding Day is 05. November and he will be four this year.  He, like Marzipan, will eat anything.


Also, his story is much like any street urchin from a Dickens novel.  Though he was small, he had to be tough.  He helped steal to help his mother and him survive the mean streets of London – The Circle.  His back right paw he used as a weapon, with several sharpened claws extended.  However, Poe’s father was looking for him… to kill and eat him!  So, the mother decided he would be safer at the large house.  There, the humans would give him a better life with a proper education.  So, she made the sacrifice to give him up.  And, sadly, later succumbed to the perils of the streets.

Poe in his baby time snuggling with Bunny.

However, he might have a better life here in this grand house, but he’s never left the streets, so to speak.  He formulated his own gang, The Gingies, and they wreak havoc on the house with him at the helm.  They form a pack and you’ll see The Gingies plotting world domination together in a corner of the house until they realize they’ve been found out.  Poe generally gets the sweeter, less smart Puff-Puff to do all the bad things, but Poe is the mastermind, with Colonel Mustard always present trying to keep his babies out of our trouble.  Marzipan who was adopted as a honourary Gingie by The Gingies, was also deemed an honourary Siamase by the Siamese Alliance; known enemies to The Gingies.  Sometimes she is present in both groups, but generally prefers to be a loner.


Official Name:  Jupiter Poe

Alternate Names:  Poe, Poepy, James Catney (because of his weapon foot and gangster disposition), Sweet Heart Honey Kitten,

Species:  He is a ferret.

Likes:  Getting Puff-Puff to carry out bad deeds, sleeping, the laser light, the cat fisher, fish guts.

Dislikes:  Bunny, being alone when he doesn’t want to be alone, Thunder.

Disposition:  An artful dodger.  Pesky but sweet.

Habitat:  Generally found in various rooms in the house.  Mainly in the living room.



Inky in his baby time


This was kitten who was not from around these parts.  Our friend found him in the woods and rescued him, while her twin brother jokes about some poor little girl pining away for Muffin, her lost kitten.  But, she is not much of a cat person, so she took him to the pound.  After about a month, he was slated for euthenization, so she informed everyone she knew so they could adopt him.  My parents saw his photo and both agreed to save him from being needlessly killed.

Inky in his baby time… gnawing on my finger.

Do not be fooled, this kitten is terrible, and I’ve nicknamed him Inky The Terrible.  He had a hard life before our friend found him.  He is afraid of dogs, more so than just instinctual like he knew a life hiding from them.  He is also cuckoo for sugar, which we don’t give him, but which he desperately wants, and it’s probably from him eating whatever he came across and perhaps there was a lot of sugary things in people’s trash.  He gnaws on wood, metal, glass, plastic, etc.  He’s just weird.

Inky… The Terrible! He will dominate ALL! (no kittens were agitated, he was playing)

He also enjoys eating potato peelings and tearing into bags of French Bread just to eat the bread.  It’s the only bread he’ll touch.  He also understands Choctaw.  He was found on the reservation, so he either is a kindred spirit to the Choctaw, or else people just kept talking to him or shooing him in this language.  And he adores First Mother, which is what we refer to as our friend who found him.  If she comes to visit, he sticks to her like glue, like he remembers her.  Or else because he knows she’s just like him.  Not sure.

Inky squirreling himself into tight places.

His Finding Day is 31. May.  He just turned a year old!  He’s still such a baby.  He is officially part of the Siamese Alliance, but The Gingies have also made him an honorary member of their gang, though he tends to try and put sweet Puff-Puff in his place.  You’ll hear him begging for mercy in his high-pitched girly meows of pity.

Inky in the laundry.

I’m also not certain, but I think because he might be so fluffy, that he sits funny in order to let heat escape.  He sits like a bunny.  It’s adorable though.  My mom tried to name him Mr. Dickens, but pretty much we all just call him Inky… or Toasted Marshmallow Kitten, because he looks like toasted marshmallows, or Sugar Sylph; mainly this one came about because I read The Unnaturalists by Tiffany Trent and there is a creature in there named Piskel, who is a Sylph.  Sounded so much like Inky, and the fact that he likes sugar, so it’s another name.


Official Name:  Inky

Alternate Names:  Mr. Dickens (mom’s choice), Baby Inks-A-Lot, Baby Inkspots, Cuckoo Pig (a reference from the original Parent Trap), Inky The Terrible, Sugar Sylph, Toasted Marshmallow Kitten.

Species:  He’s part Faerie (a Sylph to be exact) and also part Otter.

Likes:  First Mother, Faerie Lady, Faerie Cat, The Faerie Tower, bird watching, hunting, the laser light, the cat fisher, kitty cookies.  Also likes to gnaw on wood, metal, glass, and plastic.

Dislikes:  The Gingies when they form a gang, being locked up in a closet (though these are accidents), not being first in line for kitty cookies.

Disposition:  Brooding and moody.  Also really sweet.

Habitat:  Mainly found on the sundeck or underneath a kitchen chair.  Can also be found in Habu and Pappy’s room or The Faerie Tower.


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