they call me

Sadly I report the passing of our beloved Miss Boo Kitty. "The Old One" had spent 19 years on this plane and crossed towards the Rainbow Bridge on Monday evening, June 28th at 7:15 pm while in the arms of her mommy.

Mom is involved in a new business venture and things are going smashingly. She gets to travel a lot and party all the time.

This is the part of my web page where I have a special treat for you! This is my AUTOBIOGRAPHY. I wrote it myself from a cat (albiet a genius cat) point of view and I hope you enjoy it.




The Beginning

Every story has a beginning, so I guess this is mine.

Although I don’t remember her, I know my mother must have loved me very much. What was not to love? I was (and am) cute and cuddly and have a face that would break your heart.

I know in the beginning it was sometimes dark and sometimes cold. I was born in the spring among the woods and leaves and I can remember the dank musty smell of the leaves and my mother’s warmth.

Something changed and I don’t really remember how or when, but I do know my mother was gone and I was alone and afraid. I seem to recall finding my way across a huge gray expanse and hiding in more woods and calling for help. When it got cold I would find a place to hide. It got dark too. I hunkered down for several days and nights and did my best to stay calm. But I was tiny and scared and very hungry. That’s about the time the hunters started looking for me.

They were very tall and spoke in funny singsong voices, calling for me to come out to them. I am sure if I did they would tear me apart. They would rip off my head and eat me for dinner. That is what the hunters do, you know. They tempted me with food and water, but I would not budge. I kept my ground and burrowed deeper into the brush.

The next day they came again and were bent on capturing me. I did my best to run and hide. One of them poked her face through the brush where I hid and when I saw her I hissed so loudly and ran. I found a large dead metal animal to hide in and climbed up into the different parts of its belly to hide and keep warm.

Sometime later one hunter remained. She sat as still as still could be and listened for me. She must have heard me meow ever so slightly as she kept coming closer and closer to the dead beast. I heard her call to the other hunters and they gathered round the beast where I lay hidden. Finally the beast opened its dead gullet and I tried to jump away to safety, but one of the hunters grabbed me in mid leap! He handed me to the lone hunter who clutched me to her chest. “She’s going to rip my head off and eat me.” I screamed. But she didn’t hear. Instead I heard the steady sound of a beating heart. Much like my own dear mother’s, but slower. She brought me inside, where the other hunters had gathered and they ooohed and aaahed over what a pretty thing I was. Oh I was sure, I would be dead soon. But I wasn’t. She tried to feed me something and give me water and then she put me in a box. She kept me there till midday and then we went to another dead metal beast which roared and came back to life. (I would later find out what all these things were) She took me to a place with cold tables and shrill hunters who poked and prodded and weighed me. They stuck things in me and shoved drops down my throat.

Now the hunter knew I was a boy. A manly man! A king of beasts! A large, ferocious beast, not to be trifled with. She took me back in the beast and off we went to her den. As she took me out of the beast she hid me under her jacket and that is where I was when I met “Growl”.

Growl was another hunter, much larger and louder than the first (Whom I shall now call “Song”) Growl didn’t like me at first. “Too many cats!” He said. “Oh, no”, “Not another one!” “Get him out of here!” And then he looked into my beautiful blue eyes and turned to mush. “Oh come to daddy, you little fuzz ball!” FUZZBALL! I am NOT a fuzzball. I am a golden chevroned king of animals!

Song brought me in and brushed me and fed me and kept me close to her. I could smell others like me and yet unlike me in the house. Song kept them on the other side of the door. She did this for several days and I could here them sniffing and pawing to get to me. Surely they want to eat me too. Song held me on her chest and when I was pretty sure she wouldn’t eat me, I allowed myself to fall asleep. Only for a moment of course.

When I awoke next, I realized that Song and Growl had playthings! Things that smelled nice and had texture, things with bells and things with feathers. She enticed me into chasing some of them around and quite frankly, I found it was a good idea to keep me in shape in case I saw a chance to escape. Later that day she quietly opened the door and let me stick my nose out. The others were there and they hissed at me, but I was no longer afraid. The Old One was white and gray and had a somewhat nice disposition, after I got to know her. The Dark One was all hissy and growls and black and shiny. She did not like me at all.

I played and slept and ate and slept and slept and slept. Song and Growl agreed I was a special boy and therefore needed a special name. They tossed all sorts of horrid things at me. Trying to capture the effervescent spirit that is ME, they threw out “Nutso”, “Krazo”, “Krazy Boy”, “Krazy Baby”. Finally I came into the room on a full run, hit the carpet runner and slid across the room. Suddenly Growl announced, “Hey, it’s KRAMER!” “Yes, KRAMER!” answered Song. And so I was! I do not know the Kramer for whom I was named, but I am sure he was a noble warrior prince or king and was golden in color and that is why I am named for him.

The Dark One had her nose out of joint because I had come to the house. I think she may have been a minor Deity because Song went out and brought her offerings to appease her. She brought something shiny that floated across the room and The Dark One immediately sprang from where she sat and leaped at it. She grabbed the long cord attached to it and began to parade around the room. Well, that looked like fun, so I attacked her! I ran and jumped on her back, (I told you I was fierce) and then grabbed the floaty thing. Song took it from me and cut the cord so it was higher and my small paws could not reach it. The Dark One was very happy.

I should mention that there was someone else, or something else that lived in this house. To this day I do not understand it, but now knowing that The Dark One belonged to it, it makes a bit more sense. I did not know, nor do I to this very day what a “Teenager” was. I call her “Loud”. There was always noise. Horrible, loud, banging, smashing, bashing, room thumping noise where ever she was. Song and Growl would always yell, “Turn it down!” and she would, for just a second and then it would get louder than before.

Loud would get up in the morning and spend a great deal of time preparing for the hunt. She had some sort of ritual which involved painting her face to terrorize the small beasts, then she would take her pack and leave. She would return later in the day, lock herself in her den, the talking corded thing would disappear behind her door and the noise would start again!

At night when it was time to sleep, Song and Growl would make her give up the corded thing. Then she would come and carry The Dark One into her den. The Dark One would leave with a look of smug satisfaction on her face. She thought she was SO smart going to bed with Loud. But, I think not. I bet they plotted against me in there.

The Old One belonged to Song. She was actually very kind and patient to me. She knew I was young and she would take time to play with me if she had the strength and also she would teach me the things I needed to know. The Old One had been with Song long before anyone else. Even before Growl and Loud. The Old One had lived with Song in another place. She had belonged to someone else when she was very small, but they were not kind to her. She ran away to Song who took her in and made her feel very beautiful and special. She loved Song and was “Song’s Girl”. They would spend time curled up together in a chair or if Song did not feel well, the Old One would climb into bed with her and keep her warm. The Old One would have made a very good mother to a group of kittens. She had warmth, patience and love to give. I don’t know exactly how old she was, but I think she was the oldest cat I had ever seen.

The Old One told me it was a few years ago that Growl and Loud came to live with Song. Song took them in too, I guess and at first The Old One was not too happy. Loud was loud and would make crooning noises to her. The Old One did not think them sincere.

I began to feel very safe here. I knew The Dark One might scratch me if she could, so I would look out for her, but the Old One liked to curl up with me and we would sit together in the afternoon sun.

I Fall Into A Routine

I found I had a penchant for getting into mischief. I didn’t plan on it, but it happened (and happened) and just became part of my persona. Once when Growl was sitting at the table I jumped up and started to play with him. We played catch the kitty and I accidentally scratched him. He screamed and Song came running in to help. She had to take him to the doctor. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I guess I was just faster than he. Once I got into the water room and jumped into the tub. It smelled really weird and I thought I would taste the water to see why. Song screamed! She had put something called Draino down the pipes and I was not supposed to be there. She grabbed me and she and Growl began to hose me down with soap and water. It was very embarrassing. On another day I found a door open and went through it and down the stairs to see where they led. I found the greatest place. It was full of corners, and cubbyholes. It was dark and smelly and dirty. Song followed me and chased me all around. I was not about to be chased! She finally cornered me and chased me back up the stairs. I had to be cleaned (again).

Another time I found out what the back of a Coke machine looked like. Song and Growl had taken me to the vet’s office and I am not fond of that place. Growl said to Song, “Don’t put that boy down” and Song said, “What harm can he get into, it’s just the waiting room?” Well, she did and I did! I bolted to any space I could find that was “outta there” and it happened to be behind a Coke machine. It took Growl and two nurse ladies to pull the thing out and get me loose again!

Once I got out to the outside. I had crawled down the front stairs and snuck out when no one was looking. It scared me a bit and I slunk to the ground and Song came flying out of the house to find me. To this day, if she takes me out, I do NOT like it! I am the King of my castle and I wish to remain in it. Althought recently the Dark One and I have been sneaking out when the door opens and it's pretty funny to watch the chase scenes! It's like the alarms going off at the state pen! WOOOP WOOOP, the Warden, ooops, I mean Song and Growl come out running to catch us. And I do NOT want any part of that metal beast. If they put me in there it means I am going to the vets! YUCK!

I guess my favorite thing was and is water! I don’t know why it fascinates me, but it does. I love to lie on the floor next to the bowls and fling water at The Dark One as she comes by. By the end of the day, I have a huge lake of water in the middle of the room. This does not always make Song and Growl happy. Particularly Growl, if he is barefoot. The other thing I love is the tub in the water room. I stand in the tub and they turn the faucet on for me. I can stand there all day long and play with the running water. I drink it and splash it and just watch it.

The Air Conditioner Story
This is a story my friend Socks loves to hear. I think he must sit by his computer in the Netherlands and just laugh his tail off!
In the late spring or early summer, it can get very hot around here. Song and Growl put what they call air conditioners in some of the windows to keep the house nice and cool. One of these windows is slightly above an overhang and when they first put the airco in the window, it was not 100% tightly fitted. There was some small space that a nimble cat could squeeze out of. Well, I got an idea that it would be nice to sit of the overhang of the roof so I pushed myself out on the top. Song must have seen the opening in the airco vent because she shut it again. So there I was, sitting on the roof and when she went out in the yard she caught me. "oops" I thought, "I better run". I started back into the house and got my head thru the vent, but not the rest of me. Well, as far as I was concerned, if I can't see you than you can't see me. There I was head in the house thinking I'm cool, no problem and Song is in the backyard laughing her human head off. Seems a rather large part of me that is connected to my tail would not go thru the vent and I was now "stuck" in this position. Hmmmmm, not the regal position I would have liked to be in, but that's me, all butt!

So this is pretty much how I spend my days. I visit with The Old One, I torture the Dark One and I splash around in the water. Ever morning and every evening Song picks me up and cuddles me. She sings to me a song about a cat from Ipanema! She says I am her handsome boy and she loves me the best. Of course she does!

Time Passes On

Seasons change. Snow comes in the winter and the cool breezes in the summer. I like to watch the snow out my window and I like to sit and feel the breeze against my face. If the breeze is not from the ocean, (something I have never seen, but only heard about) I can sit in front of a wind machine and let the air blow in my face. I really, really do like that!

As time passed Loud got older and one day decided she wanted to be on her own, so she left. I guess it’s like leaving the litter. She was gone and the house was strangely quiet. Song cleaned the room and made it a sewing room. She would go in there and sew things and more often than not made horrid little outfits that she would make The Dark One wear. I loved that best of all! There is nothing more degrading or embarrassing than a cat in an Easter bonnet. Unless it’s a reindeer outfit.

The Old One and I got along fine and sometimes when The Dark One would bother her, I would come in and chase the offender away. It was very peaceful and even The Dark One would tolerate me once in a while.

Occasionally Song and Growl would go away and strangers would come to feed us. There was Song’s mother, who would come in and say “I don’t like you, but I have to feed you. Where are you?” I would hide. There was the neighbor lady who would come in and snoop around and say hello. I would hide. She would tell Song all the trouble we got into while they were away. I would hide. There was also a neighbor man who would come in. He was very nice, but I had heard he had a cat that made The Dark One look like a saint. His cat was a tyrant. By day she pretended to be daddy’s little precious, but by night she was a mean spirited brat cat who chase all the animals out of, not only her yard, but every yard around for a block. She hissed and scratched and growled and when she was done she would go home and purr for her daddy. When he came, I would, well, I would hide.

Once when Song and Growl were away, the three of us cats decided we would have some fun of our own. I remember we tried to throw ourselves against the closet door to get inside. We pushed and pushed and finally, it popped open. The Dark One, who is an excellent climber, got up into the closet and pushed a huge basket off the top shelf. Inside it were YARN BALLS, all colors and sizes. We ran and played and tossed those balls around for days. And when we were tired we would rest a while and then start all over again. We ran them over things and under things, around chair legs, thru chair legs, under tables, over beds, under the sofa, around the lamp table. When we were done, the house was an incredible array of every color string you could imagine. And it was everywhere.

Song and Growl came home a few days later and when they opened the door there was silence. They looked and looked and could not believe their eyes. I think they must have thought a great artist had come into the house and painted every nook and cranny. Hey! They laughed at us. They could have killed us.

A Murderous Story

This is a story, although not about me, bears retelling. It happened to Song and Growl and the neighbor man.

Once the neighbor man was not feeling well so they took him to the hospital. He was there for several days and Song would go over and feed “The Brat Cat”. Once the man called and said the hospital would allow pets to visit so Song and Growl took Brat to visit her daddy. They brought her into the hospital and left he to visit while they went shopping. (Must have been to buy ME things) Then they came back to pick up the Brat. As they were leaving, Song was holding Brat. Brat bolted and clawed her way down the front of Song. Song screamed. Growl grabbed Brat and she clawed her way through him. She bolted across the hot parking lot and disappeared into the woods nearby. Both Song and Growl were bleeding. Growl was growling and Song was screaming. They had lost the man’s baby! (Yeah, like here is where I say, so what?) Song and Growl looked and looked. Every time they saw Brat she would run away again. It was in July and the temperature was very hot. They sweated and looked and crawled under cars to find her, all to no avail. Finally Song had to go tell the man she had lost his baby. She was so upset. She cried and cried. The man said not to cry. Brat was, after all, only a cat. (EXCUSE ME????? – ONLY A CAT????) Well, she was only a Brat. Song gave it one more try and another lady came to help. They found Brat under a police car. (They should have run her over) So they all surrounded the car and finally pulled her out. The man was so happy to see Brat. Song was relieved and Growl says if he ever sees that cat again, he’ll skin her alive!

Song is Song

At first I found it hard to describe my relationship with Song. She was so nice to me. She kept me fed and brushed and happy. I guess she liked me. It was short time later, I realized she had begun to do the things my mother did for me. She cuddled me and loved me and told me I was her pretty boy. Although we did not speak the same language, she did her best to understand me and I think she did rather well at picking up some of the nuances of Catonese. She in turn has taught me some Humanese. I can say “Yoo-Hoo”, “Water” “Oh-No” and so on. Of course I am very bright and picked these up very fast.

One of the things I must admit I like, (but I would never admit to this in public) is when Song picks me up and sings to me. She lifts me up and I stretch out and she cuddles my head with her head. Then she sings funny songs, like “The Cat from Ipanema”. Other times we cat dance to Rachmeowanoff and sometimes even the Who. She is a funny one, that Song. The embarrassing part is when she gets too mushy. I am her widdle biddy baby boy orange furrball of love. PLEASE! Cut me some slack here. I am a CAT! And a proud one at that.

But all things considered, I love Song very much. She has infinite patience and will right a wrong when it is done. She loves us all and cuddles us and strokes us and even brushes us. She is first to give me water in the tub in the mornings. I guess she is my mommy after all!

The Old One

Song and The Old One are best buddies. I think if Song has a favorite boy it is me and her favorite girl is the Old One. The Old One is devoted to Song. Every night at bedtime when Song gets ready for bed, the Old One sits and watches and talks to her. They understand each other very well. The Old One says “Reow” and Song says “Reow” right back to her. They cuddle and after dinner Song lets the Old One visit her plate. This is an honor not even I am afforded. The Old One has a very loud contented purr during these moments with Song.

Sadly I report the passing of our beloved friend. "The Old One" had spent 19 years on this plane and crossed towards the Rainbow Bridge on Monday evening, June 28, 2004 at 7:15 pm while in the arms of her mommy, Song. She will forever be in the fields of an Indian Summer - October afternoon, with the wind on her face and the smell of crisp Autumn leaves in the air.

The Dark One

Now the Dark One is another story. Never have I seen a cat more full of evil intent. Well, maybe Brat, but I haven’t met her. She is always lurking in the shadows and trying to attack the Old One. I think she is waiting for her to die. What a horrid thought. What a nasty cat. She leaps at me when I walk by and it is not in fun either. She tries to scratch me and the Old One and Song is always telling her “NO!” She scratches the furniture and knocks things off the top of dressers. She likes to be high and then pounce on me when I am not looking. I think she needs a chill pill. Song says she suffers from something called Middle Child Syndrome. But I think she hung around Loud too long and they were in cahoots to use their powers for evil instead of good. Or maybe it’s the old saying that the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats as gods and the Dark One has never forgotten that! If the Dark One has any redeeming values at all, it is the fact that she is patient with Song and trying her best to learn the human language. Song and she talk all the time. The Dark One can say “Out?” “Why” “Mine” “No”. Not bad for a cat and just enough to get by.

Mr. Puff

Mr. Puff is my friend. He lives outdoors. Well not exactly outdoors. He lives in the house across the street and his humans let him out to play. From what I understand he is a champion hunter and there is not a squirrel safe in the neighborhood when he is around. I have even seen him chase dogs! He is a brave boy! In the winter when I am in my window safe and warm, I have seen him doing the happy roll in the snow. He loves to roll around in the snow, feeling the cold and savoring each moment.

Puff is always after me to come out and play, but Song will have no part of it. Some mornings she opens the door and he is waiting on the porch to see if I will come out and play. Of course not. The closest I get is song opening the door and letting us touch noses on the porch. Sometimes Puff comes in the house. Just a step or two and then I have to chase him out. I don’t really want to as he is such fun, but it is one of the cat postures we must do to maintain our aloofness.

Not too long ago, Song heard some very sad news about Mr. Puff. Some human in a metal box tried to kill him. He was out late at night and the person ran him over and left him for dead. Luckily his mother found him. He had a painful and slow recovery. Although nothing was broken, he had severe nerve damage and for quite some time could not walk. He dragged himself all around his house, I am told. Now he is an indoor cat. If any story had a morale, it would be this one. Puff is the greatest guy in the world, but his parents let him out to play. I think all cats should be worshipped and adored INSIDE. But poor Mr. Puff's parents never learn. They let him out to terrorize the neighborhood small varmits. Someone I know calls him "Ted Bundy" says he is handsome and charming, but he better not get you alone, if you're a mouse! HAH

My Friends

I happen to be a cat of the world. I have a girlfriend named Varda who lives in Ohio and some friends namd Smokey in Maryland and Socks in the Netherlands. We have never met, but we hang out online and exchange emails and sometimes gifts.

My Jobs

Now I don’t want you to think that life is all fun and games. I have to work for a living. In order to contribute to the upkeep of my home, I have taken on several tasks. The first is hunting. There seem to be an enormous amount of killer toy mice in the house. I chase them and throw them up in the air and then rip their tales off. This keeps everyone safe and Song loves it when I bring her a dead toy mouse. She thinks I am brave and wonderful.

Another job I have is to keep the foot of the bed warm. One never knows when a human may need a nap and there is nothing more upsetting than cold feet. To this end, I sleep a lot on the end of the bed in the sunlight. That way if anyone gets tired the bed is pre-warmed. This makes for a hard job, because, even though I have my own room I must patroll all the other rooms and make sure nobody has dropped any turkey or small toys. Then I take turns sleeping on all the beds. Whew, sleep....wander to the next room, sleep....wander... You get the general idea.

Song collects dolls and small things, so I help by taking one of each of the small articles and storing them for her. I have quite a collection of shoes, earrings, ribbons, etc. She can never find a match, but I know where each and every one is.

Also one of my better duties is to assist Song in her creative endeavors. Song is always busy with fabric and sewing. I help her by sitting on whatever she is working on. If it is a quilt or sewing project, I must lay across the top of the fabric to investigate it’s properties and softness. If it is a knitting project I must pull on the yarn to check its textile strength. If it is delicate embroidery I try to help by wrapping the threads around my paws to help hold them.

And lastly, it is my job to patrol the areas at night and see if all is well. To do this correctly, I have to walk around the perimeters of the house and check every nook, cranny and object that might make a noise. Then I go up to Song’s room and jump on her solar plexus to make sure she is breathing. Hey, it’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.


So thus far, this has been the story of my life.

Oh, I forgot to tell you my entire name. I am: Kramer Joseph Cole, His Royal Highness, King of Everything, He Who Must Be Worshipped and Adored, The Most Petted, Ruler of All He Surveys, Lord High Chancellor and Toy Mouse Executioner, Supercat and Spokesmodel, Earl of Big Butts and THE WIND! But you can call me KRAMER.

And as I am very fatigued from all this story telling, I think it best I go lay down for a nap!

Still spoilt and still King of the Castle. Mom has recently redecorated my room in (get this) CAT MOTIFS! Yes, there are golden cat pillows and golden cat paintings and all sorts of tribute to ME! I think it is elegant yet understanded.

We did manage to finish the kitty quilt we were working on and we donated it to the Quincy Animal Shelter for fund raising. I think it will make someone very happy.

I hope you will all take the time to send donations to the QUINCY ANIMAL SHELTER. They are a no kill shelter in the city in which I live, QUINCY, MASSACHUSETTS. Quincy is known as the City of Presidents as both Adams Presidents were born here. But more importantly it is the CITY OF KRAMER as I live here now!

I would like to tell you all about the Quincy Animal Shelter, which is very near to where I live. The very nice humans at QAS take in cats and kittens (and dogs) from the surrounding community and give them a wonderful TEMPORARY place to live. With an emphasis on education, each cat is placed for adoption with a person or family who has promised to be a responsible owner and give the animal a permanent home. Some of these lovely animals have been abandoned. Some have beengiven up as their families moved or became old or ill. Some have been rescued from the wild. But ALL need loving homes.


No cat at this shelter is ever destroyed! They will remain here until they are adopted, no matter HOW LONG IT TAKES! All of these cats receive the best in Vet care and are happy and well fed. They get to live in a very nice Kitty room. But things could be better. They are in need of food, laundry detergent, litter, cat toys, and monetary donations.


Well, it would make me very happy if all my cat friends had a home...But since that may not be possible, it would be really nice if you would consider making a donation to the QUINCY ANIMAL SHELTER - TELL THEM KRAMER SENT YOU!!!!! Thier address is: Mailing Address: P.O. Box 88 Quincy, MA 02169-0088

Street Address: 56 Broad Street Quincy, MA 02169-0088

Their webpage is at:

If you can't send money, they always need food, litter, paper towels, laundery dtergent, clean towels, cat beds, cat food, and strained baby food (chicken and turkey for weaning kittens)


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