Mischa - my first kitten ever -
I picked you out from the barn cats for my happy birthday to me. I wanted to bond with you, communicate in our own private language, but you chose him instead.
I spoke confidence and courage to your timid heart. I escorted you to the litter box when the fat bitch cat wouldn't let you get to the stairs. I allowed you to have the first cold drink of my ice water before bed. I played fetch with you in the middle of the night when you dropped hair elastics on my face. And still you stretch out on his legs during prime time.
I call your name and you run under the sofa. He needs only to pat his leg and look askance and you follow him around the house.
If I weren't such a cat myself I would be offended. But you are mine and I will always love you, always feed you and always be armed with Urine Gone for your unfortunate squirts of piss when the big cats scare you silly.

Overturned cups,
undermined glasses;
toppled so they shatter

Upended crockery,
Unpotted plants;
dirt and other matter

Letters astray,
Bills culled and carried;
a paper stack scattered

If I only spoke
a smattering of cat
and we could natter
over this and that

We could discuss
the splattering,
and tattering,
the stain, and tear,
and battering

Though I think
you'd probably
find it flattering.

Dearest Maddux,

I know you're currently starting at the front door waiting for me to walk in and give you food. Alas, I am still at the library.

You see, Mom is trying to survive the first semester of 1L. Do you know what that means? Probably not. It means that I'm currently writing a legal memo justifying my argument for cutting animals out of the Constitution. That's right. I'm distinguishing your rights from mine. I'm really sorry about that, sweet boy.

You see, if I get an A and then pass my exams later this month, I'm on my way to doing well in law school. That means that when I graduate in two and a half years, I can get a decent paying job (or just a job at this point) and maybe we can move out of that 320 square foot room you're currently in while you wait for me.

Stay patient, my dear. In a couple of weeks I'm going to traumatize you when I take you on a plane to Grandma's house for Christmas. You remember Grandma, right? She's the small lady who stops by a couple times a year and spoils you by getting up early in the morning to give you food and sneaks in treats and toys.

I'll be home in an hour. I know you'll be up.

Love,
Mom

I love you and always will, but if you keep waking me up at insane hours of the morning, because you somehow managed to climb on top of the TV or to some other insane place, I'll seriously consider killing you and using your sorry arse to make soup!

Ah! and ps: I know you don't like your 'younger brother Alvini' honestly I don't either, since he keeps peeing anywhere he wants and eats anything he finds... but please try not to kill him just to prove your alpha status.

Love,
Your adoring mistress Scalvim

Dear Libby,

I don't know what it is with your box obsession, but it's pretty darn funny watching you try to fit into that tiny shoe box I got my flats in. And then proceed to take a nap. It looks pretty cozy, but not my thing.

I'm glad you enjoy the large box that our car seat came in. It was sad to watch you jump 3 feet or so to try to get into it, so we cut a hole on the side for you. It's a perfect escape from the dog.. or an attack position. Whatever works for you.

Love, Me

Dear Felicia FLEA-sha,

Thank you for always waking me up 5:30 AM.
Now, I'm never late for school because of you. :D

But, could you wake me up in a way that DOESN'T turn me into your scratching post?

Thanks. <3

Love,
Mommy

P.S. You and daddy snore too loud.

Dearest GIR,

I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you much since April. Living on my own is proving to be difficult. I have a feeling you wouldn't like it so much here anyways. It's a little cramped, and there are a bunch of strays outside, though I know how much you love beating them up. <3

But I promise I'll come visit you again soon, and when I finally move into a more spacious home and have more money to spare, I promise you can come eat my food and sleep on my face again.

Also, stop peeing in the sink. You nearly gave me a heart attack when your grandmommy called me and said something was wrong with you. You know that grandmommy isn't very bright, GIR-bear, so stop doing weird things like that!

Missing you every day,
Mommy. <3

Dear Phoenix,

Even though at night you can't understand the concept of sleep, only the concept of 'bounce off the walls time', you drool immensely when you're happy, you're so floppy it's as though you have no bones whatsoever and you constantly have an expression of dopey confusion and/or absolute awe on your face,
I'm terribly glad I spent eight years begging for you.
Even when, at 3am, you decide it's fun to play 'leap from the ceiling onto Rani's face'.
Yes, m'dear, even then.
By the way - the kink in your tail is gorgeous.

Much love.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.

I know your Queen Cat of the entire village, and you have the mighty duty of patrolling the lands, but please, don’t go into other peoples’ homes and eat all their cats’ food.

You're scaring the nieghbors' cats...Especially Tipper.

Dear Delphi,

I think there has been some confusion as to your identity. You are not a dog: please stop chasing your tail and running headlong into the walls.

Thank you,
your concerned mom

Mom thinks I'm addicted. What she doesn't know is that I was using "must have coffee" as an excuse to get out of the house quickly in the morning without her. Yes, I was getting coffee, I just didn't need to get coffee at this place or that. Starbucks, Coffee Bean, even McCafe drinks not only are overpriced, all the junk they put in the drinks that make it taste good gets fattening. Not something to do every day.

So I was pondering on this over three months ago, plus it's hard to make coffee for one at home without throwing away at least half. I am never getting a Keurig...love it, but I'm still unemployed, plus I'm never going to pay for the pods, even if I had a job. I don't need more than one cup a day...blah blah blah. Then the light lit up in my head. Hey, I have an electric espresso moka pot! I bought it back when I wanted an espresso machine. After reading up, about the poor quality of espresso you get from anything but really expensive machines (because you can't get enough pressure), I went with a stovetop moka pot, then later the cordless electric one because it turns itself off. When I work, I never have time for coffee at home because of the clean up factor. So I have really been enjoying my coffee lately.

Mom doesn't understand the feeling of enjoyment because she doesn't live in the present. She does things for posterity or for the future. What's in the future? A pine box, or in her case, an urn in the family crypt. When we travel, she takes pictures to look back at the past. Then she's like, "Did we do that? Did we go there? We must have, here's the proof." Art, more specifically painting, has opened my eyes. literally and figuratively. I enjoy the sights, smells, feelings when I'm there, then I remember it all over again when I look back at my sketches. I remember so much more of the moment because I was there mentally, not just physically.

So she doesn't understand how anyone can enjoy coffee, nor food just for pleasure. I've put the electric moka back up in the cupboard. It still makes more than I want, so I'm using the stovetop one again, as it's about half the size. I know I'm leaving it on the fire too long. I'm still working on my technique.

Nyaah-nyaah-nyah-nyah-nyaaaaa!!

Oh . . . not that kind of teasing?

OK, then, how about a bit of novel.

( Song From the Heart )

I wonder . . . if an editor is on LinkedIn, and you have access to the e-mail service there and could e-mail that editor because you're linked one link away, would it be outrageous to send her a query via that e-mail (because Penguin doesn't allow unagented queries and doesn't publish their e-mail addresses)? Yeah, it probably would. I need to go through an agent. And of course agents don't like SONG FROM THE HEART or music from any other orifice (which is strange--some fruits are quite musical! And I don't mean only beans.) There aren't any zombies. And nothing blows up in the first scene. What am I *thinking*?

I saw REAR WINDOW (the Hitchcock film starring James Stewart--you know, the one that's acknowledged as a masterpiece?) last night once again, and this time I noted that today's audiences would scream because of the long setup. You could start the flick about thirty minutes in, the second visit from the nurse when they see suspicious stuff done by Raymond Burr, and probably the audience could catch on to the stuff about the Park Avenue girlfriend who wants to get married and all that jazz. But I also acknowledged that the setup doesn't bother me; I'm always anticipating what these events may mean in the later minutes of the flick, not saying, "Boring! Boring! Show me explosions NOW!" Does this mean I shouldn't watch old movies for fear of becoming even WORSE about this? Well . . . tough.

Oh, my dear boy, how I have cried for you since you have left us.

After I went away to college, I missed you and the others terribly. On my visits home, I began to notice that you were a little...off. Your weight had dropped some, but then again, how could I compare you to the likes of someone like Ed who looks like a cat-walrus! Mom mentioned every now and then that you threw up when you ate, but then again, Ed was infamous for that. No one seemed to be alarmed.

But I just didn't feel right about you. I gave you extra attention with each visit. I watched your weight decrease from just a little to a lot, to the point that I could practically touch the tips of my fingers in front of your hip bones. Mom was working away from home now, too, so she couldn't watch you as much as she wanted, but she tried the best she could. She gave you rounds of worm medicine, hoping it would solve the digestion issues you were having (and had been having).

The last time I saw you, you came running into my room like always. I assumed you were looking for something to chew on to piss me off and get me to yell at you, the same game we had played for years. Sure enough, you started chewing on some fake plants, but you didn't respond to my protests or even my approaches, not even with a cocky meow (which would have been normal). I had to pick you up away from the plants and sit you on the bed. You seemed almost delirious. You were so frail, it was terrible, it made me want to cry. Your tail was bushed up, and you were anxious, but it wasn't because of me. I was the only thing that was calming you down. When I had you relaxed and loving, I walked away. It didn't take too long for you to jump right back up to the plant again and the process started over. This time I had to literally pull you away from it, as though you were holding onto it for dear life. It was terrifying, I couldn't understand what had gotten into you; the look in your eyes was so distant.

Only a few short weeks later, I understood. My fears had come true. Oh, how I wish we had taken you to the vet sooner like my instinct had told me! I wish I had protested the worm medicine and asked for a vet visit instead like I had wanted! Maybe you would still be here with us today, my Archie-Cat.

My mom called me on a Sunday to inform me that you would probably be euthanized the next day. She said she looked up your symptoms on the Internet and they were by-the-book for feline kidney disease. You were crashing hard, and you could barely walk. You couldn't even eat. It happened so fast, but she was right.

This past week was the first time I had gone home since the last time I saw you. I have to say, the house isn't quite the same without you "calling" crickets or birds to you or wreaking havoc in my room by stealing whatever you can find and dragging it through the house. Mostly, though, I just miss being able to sit down and have you jump up in my lap and look up at me with those gorgeous eyes and give me that meow that was yours and only yours while you pawed at my legs.

You gave me a great nine years. I hope wherever you are now, the journey has only gotten better for you, my little friend.

Love, and More Love

I find it very annoying that when I came to visit you, the first thing you did was meow at me and run into the kitchen so I would follow and feed you. As if I had never left. I was gone for four months. You could be a little more grateful.

Dearest Roxie,

You are a beautiful cat, everyone tells us so when they come to visit. You are also mostly white.

Why, then, do you insist on rolling around in the dirt in the backyard? We can tell immediately that you have done so, unlike your tortoise shell daughter, and then you fuss when we have to give you a bath. Darling, you bring it on yourself.

Speaking of your daughter, I do wish you wouldn't hiss at her when she approaches you. We kept your daughter because we thought maybe you'd enjoy her company rather than one of your sons. Apparently we were wrong. I know occasionally she'll chase you around the backyard, but it's all in good fun.

Love,

she who often shakes her head in bemusement

Maya,
The cuddling rules. The chainsaw purring rules. Your politeness, gentility and willingness to eat any food rule. It is even fine with me that you feel your happiness rests on whether I will pet you while you eat.

I'm writing today to let you know that, when you curl up on my lap or belly, or on the desk in front of the computer between my arms, is not the only opportunity available to you for cleaning your anus. There are lots of times you could do this, and I'm requesting that you do this without me - going forward, forever, for all time.
xoxo,
My name

To My Dearest Darlings Koga, Milo & Azza.

Firstly Koga.
Koga, Koga, Koga where DO I begin?!
Well let's begin where it all started, that fateful night in 2008 when your previous daddy Michael brought you to our home to live with us.
With your daddy working nights I desperately needed some company for the night time, something to look after me and cuddle me so I wouldn't feel so alone. We had let people know we were in the market for a cat or kitten and it just so happened that your previous daddy (our friend) Michael was signing up for the army and couldn't take care of you anymore and requested that we take you in and make you our own.
Needless to say our lives have been turned upside down since that day.
You are so destructive when you are bored.
You have broken many of mummy's little trinkets around the house, you are forever jumping onto the bench to lick the dirty dishes in the sink (is this perhaps your way of telling mum she needs to do more housework?) and lately for some reason you refuse to use your litterbox. You do still wait to be let outside to do your business but why the sudden rebellion against the litterbox?
You think the toilet is a water fountain and I cannot seem to take a bath without you trying your luck of balancing on the dge of the tub (which almost always results in you falling in and daddy having to come to your rescue).
And Koga my dearest the biting and the lunging has to stop.
You mainly do it to me (never daddy ironically) but now you are starting on our visitors and needless to say some of my friends now fear coming over. It seems that whenever someone is focusing there attention on anything but you, you feel the need to remind them of your presence by biting feet or lunging at people's ankles. We realise you are there Kogy Bear, there is no need for this and Im sorry to say but sometimes other things need to be done before I can play with you.
Despite the breaking of items, fascination with the forbidden and negative attention-seeking you are our world.
Mummy and daddy love you so much and sometimes we just sit there and stare at you and marvel over what a beautiful boy we have. We feel so blessed to have such a gorgeous bundle of heaven in our lives and would do just about anything for you.
Mummy is leaving work early day, she doesn't feel well so I will see you in about an hour...I will make us up a little bed on the couch when I get home and we can have a good snuggle together!

Love Mummy and Daddy.


---------------------------------------------------------------

Last but not least Milo and Azza.

I know I no longer live with you, having moved out of home 2 years ago but you both are still very much in my life.
Milo, you hold a very special place in my heart. You are the first cat I ever had and the cat that I grew up with. I can't beleive in a months time you will be 14 years old! I swear you don't look a day over 10!
And although you seem to be loosing your smarts in your old age I still look at you and see that same kitten that would run at any noise and hide under the couch. When I come over my all time favourite thing to do is to spend a good hour or so rubbing my face against yours and from the loud purring sounds you make it seems you love it to.
I cannot tell you how proud I am of you. Everyone said I was foolish to try and train a cat to sit on command but we stuck it out and we showed them. You are now the only cat I have ever known who will sit when he is told and I love showing you off to anyone who comes around and doesn't beleive me.
I know you probably don't have much longer on this earth with us as your health is starting to go down hill but I try not to think about that and instead relish the time we do have together and make the most of every little cuddle and kiss.

Azza you never cease to amaze me!
By far the most charactoristic cat I have ever known and just when I think I have all your little quirks worked out you go and do something so random I am left saying "what the?"
You refuse to do any normal cat things and mum and I beleive that you are possibly half dog!
You talk to the birds, you love the smell of bleach, you headbutt walls and you always sleep on your back with all four legs up in the air!
You can often be anti-social though az, either hissing or growling when someone picks you up one too many times and I do think you could work on your people skills a tad.
You have never once in your life come when someone has called you and I do think there will be no hope training you as I have done with your uncle Milo.
Regardless of this az you do make us laugh with your big, dumbfounded eyes and your constant random meows at people and objects and we do love you for the entertainment you provide.

Love you both soo much xo

Love is not a competition