The Cat With Three Names

This one is my soul cat.  She is supposed to belong to my son, but all parents know what happens to the animals when the kids move out.  What was theirs, is now yours.  If only it worked that way with their video games.

I think this one has always owned me, though.  When I went to the shelter to check the cats out, there were a bunch of little kittens running around on the floor.  I couldn't get the attention of any of them.

This one here was the only little baby in a cage.  And boy did she try and get my attention.  She mewed and mewed, stretched up in the cage and tried to get to me.  I stuck my finger in the cage, and she rubbed on me and was mewing up a storm.  It was love at first sight.

I looked at the attendant and said, "I think she's picking me."  He had this grin on his face that I didn't quite understand.  It wasn't a grin of agreement, it was more like "you poor sucker".

Little did I know what I was getting myself in for.

Make no mistake, I adore this cat.  She is by far, one of the best cats I've ever had.

First of all, she's not allowed on the counter, but you see where she is.  She does what she wants. Secondly, she hates kids, although she is getting better about that.  Thirdly, she hates other animals. She is jealous.  Thou shalt not worship other animals besides me is her motto.

She takes walks with me in the yard, leaping, galloping and playing in the leaves as we meander along.  Or she hides in the grass and stalks me.  It's all great fun to her.

She is very choosy about whom she lets pet her.  You have to earn it, and she has to like you.  I trust her judgment in people more than the dogs', to be quite honest.

She's got quite a bit of personality.  When you have a nickname, you have personality.  Her nickname according to the rest of the family is Little Bitch.  I call her Baby Girl.

She comes when she is called.  Both of my cats do, actually.  Most of the time you can find her in my lap unless she is hunting outside.

When she can't find me, she runs through the house crying plaintively, wailing until she can find me. When I call to her, she runs and gets on me, and purrs and acts happy to see me and snuggles right up.

If I close the door to my writing room, she does the same, with the added distraction of scratching and flinging herself at the door.

If I don't want her to get on me because you know, sometimes you don't, she gets on my shelf and knocks things down.

Usually, I just relent.  It's easier that way.  She's the first cat I've ever had with three names.