More of Our Fuzzy Faces

Belle
The kitten who couldn't make up her mind what color she wanted to be! I found Belle curled up inside a cinder block in a fellow cat person's shed. I had no intention of getting another kitten at the time, but she was so strikingly beautiful I couldn't resist her. I later read that her combination of colors and patterns - part tabby, part tortoiseshell - is quite similar to that of chimera cats, who also can't make up their minds what they want to be.

Belle is now 5 years old and is quite a talker - she greets David at the door every night and gives him the business and/or the latest gossip all the way down the hall, through the bedroom and into the bathroom.







Mr. Peepers 1994-1999
Our son, Ted, found 5-week old Mr. Peepers under a mobile home near a friend's house. We named him for the little peeping sounds he made as he scampered about the house. "Peep" grew from a plump, mischievous kitten into a long, lean mischievous cat, but he was always sweet and gentle and had a habit of reaching out to "pet" us.

*Peepers died on 31 January, most likely of a heart attack.





Oscar
Oscar was tossed from a pickup truck in front of our house early one October morning. David, who was at home recuperating from surgery, saw the truck and went outside to investigate. He heard a faint "Meow," called "Kittykittykitty" and Oscar came running from the woods.

Oscar has been with us for five years now, and is a dead ringer for a Maine Coon, even unto his personality. His favorite is David. Period. The feeling is mutual, too.








8-Ball
8-Ball is another one of our son's rescuees. After seeing one of his friends pick up the poor kitten and bounce him off of a telephone wire, Ted brought him home. Fearful that we'd have a fit (we already had 16 cats at the time), he hid 8-Ball in his room for nearly a week before I heard the unmistakable sound of new kitten squeaks. At first I insisted that we find the new arrival a home - after all, he was "just another black and white cat" and we certainly didn't need another one of those - but then I discovered that he was polydactyl, and that was that.

Our tiny, bony little stray is now a big, fat (16 lbs.) insolent gang leader. He was neutered at four months of age, but somehow he didn't get the message, as his favorite pastime is making passes at poor little Belle.

LEMME GO! LEMME GO! That's my mom holding him, obviously against his wishes. Count them toes!





8-Ball and Peepers
8-Ball, with his "I don't do photos" attitude, trying to catch a few zzzz's with Peepers. They weren't really buddies, but when there's newspaper to lie on, even two worst enemies will snuggle up - as any cat person knows!








Puppy
Puppy is our 18th and hopefully final cat. He was one of my neighbor's kittens. Naturally, I wanted to help her out with finding good homes for the babies, so I - uh, er, I - well, I named him Puppy so that nobody could accuse me of being a nut and getting another cat . . .

Puppy takes after his mother - very small for a male (only 7 pounds), sweet and very cuddly, and also the beggar from hell. He'll steal food right off your plate if you're not careful.






Nefertiri
Nefer was the first kitty I acquired when I started working at our local animal hospital - only two weeks into the job! Nefer was brought to the hospital for euthanasia due to a supposedly incurable case of diarrhea. I took one look at this sweet, lovely kitty, who spent her time in the cage dancing on her tiptoes, rubbing against the bars and reaching out to touch anyone that walked by, and decided at once that, runny or not, I'd take her and try the cure myself. Just ten days and a prescription for Flagyl later, she was normal.

Nefer, now seven years old, spends most of her time in obscure corners. She is extremely shy of the other cats, but loves people. She also loves mice and is an excellent mouser, even without claws.




Squeebie
Squee is my pride and joy - my only successful attempt at raising a bottle baby. I found him in the swamp behind a fellow cat-lover's house not long after Hurricane Felix threatened us in 1995. He was just two weeks old, and the only colorpoint kitty in a litter of four kittens.

Squee proved to be excellent therapy for me - I was barely over a bad car wreck and was feeling quite sorry for myself, and taking on the responsibility of a kitten pulled me right out of the dumps. He thrived on the kitten formula, and immediately adopted me as his foster mom.

Squee's real mom, an apparently fast and easy tortoiseshell queen, manages to produce at least one colorpoint in each litter (she's far too shy of people to catch and spay). To date, she has had at least three lilac points, two chocolate points, and one flame point.

Incidentally, Squee happens to be Belle's uncle.




Rusty
Rusty came to us along with her sister, Jinks (who is rather camera shy) back in 1990. A co-worker of mine was looking for homes for three tabby kittens - two girls and a boy - and asked if I could help ... How could I separate sisters, anyway?

Rusty latched onto David and had an ongoing rivalry with Peaches for first place in his heart. She has become a little chubby, and with her tiny feet resembles nothing so much as a rather overweight lady trying to balance on a pair of too-small high-heeled shoes. She is also totally lacking in stealth, as she tends to slap her feet when she walks. You can hear her coming from the other end of the house.



A Bunch of the Guys - From left: Peepers, Puppy, Kedzie and Lucky.
Kedzie (a/k/a "The Moose") was found hiding under a truck at a gas station by one of the vet techs. She brought him to me in the palm of her hand saying, "Irene! Look what I brought just for you!" Kedzie no longer fits in the palm of your hand, unless you happen to be King Kong. At the ripe old age of six, he now weighs 21 lbs.
Lucky is one of the few cats that didn't come to us as a kitten. Already named, neutered and declawed, he was brought to me by a client who was moving and couldn't take him with her. "I was going to put an ad in the paper," she said, "but I couldn't bear to give him to strangers - and then I thought of you." Of course - who else? Why did I agree? Why, Lucky was our 13th cat.




...And a Couple of the Girls - Rusty (left) and Cicero 1993 - 2001
Ever hear about the baby left on the church doorstep? Well, Cicero, or Cissie, as we affectionately called her, was left on the porch at the animal hospital. We'd just gotten Kedzie a week before, and as anyone knows, kittens do best in pairs ... Cissie and Kedzie were best buddies for a while, but they drifted apart when Kedzie turned into Fat Clemenza. Cissie was rather reclusive with the other cats, but, like Nefer, she loved people. Cissie died of kidney failure in the summer of 2001. We miss her terribly.






Kedzie and Cicero as kittens
Sweet babies, aren't they? I should have known that Kedzie was going to be huge - just look at those ears.

By the way, Kedzie and Cicero are named for two of Chicago's main streets. In fact, my gramma once lived near the corner of 63rd and Kedzie, so when I get my 63rd cat ...

- or -

YOU'LL NEVER WATCH TV ALONE

Left to right: Squee, Oscar, Rusty, David, Puppy and Kedzie.