I want to start of on the right paw. My name is Spike, not Spikers, not Miss Spike and not Here Kitty, Kitty. My name is Spike and I earned it the hard way. I'll start at the beginning. My Birth Mother was a feral cat. She had my siblings and myself in a rain gutter in an abandoned high school in Albuquerque, New Mexico in 1989. Now I don't remember all this, but I have been told my Meowmie so I know it is true. My Birth Mother was ran over by a car on the day we were born. A passerby just happened to hear my tiny mews and began to investigate. They called in help and finally found us. I was the only one still alive. I was passed from milk mother to milk mother until one was found that would accept me. I learned to fight for that milk before I had my eyes open. At six weeks old the milk mother set me apart and refused to let me, ME, have any of her milk. My Meowmie was visiting a place where abandoned and feral kitties were taken and she agreed to take me home. Being the cutest cat of course she picked me up and I curled up in her hand and went to sleep. How could she have refused me. We had a pleasant drive home. I purred in her ear the entire way. I was so happy to have a home of my very own. The story still brings tears to my eyes.

She opened the door to my new home and there to my horrified eyes were more cats and a d*g. I was placed on the floor. Those other two cats, Sasha and Angie, started hissing at me and I decided enough was enough! I walked over to them, stood up on my back legs and beat them senseless with my claws. I remember that. Meowmie said I stayed on my hind legs for three days. I was then top cat and have remained so to this day. Hence I was named Spike.

The d*gs name was Sealy. She is a Schipperke. She had just had a false pregnacy and really wanted puppies. I refused to be a puppy. Once that was straightened out we became best friends. We played together constantly. We played rough too. she drug me all over the floor and growled. She was the one that hollered though. I don't pull punches. The other were my underlings. As long as I ate first they could do what they wanted. I was Dad's cat from the beginning. He was the one that held me and petted me and only when I wanted to be held and petted. Meowmie has always been a good slave and fed me and kept the litter box clean, etc. I have only recently let her pet me much.

From the start it was generally accepted that I was a georgous cat. I have very long solky fur and a long tail that I like to float above me. I have a white chest, white tummy and white shoes. I love being groomed except when the grooming gets to my arm pits and tummy. It always gets there too. I use to get really mad but now I just put up with it. That's the only thing I don't have control of. When I was two Meowmie entered me in a cat show. They had an All Breeds that allowed spays. I had to get a bath for that and be brushed within an inch of my life. I was mad when we got there. At one point Meowmie put me in a cage with other cats on both sides. There was cardboard between us but I could smell them. My neighbor stuck her pay in my cage and hissed. I was good and mad when this strange woman opened the cage and tried to get me out. Meowmie had to do the deed and I thought the ordeal was over. Wrong. She handed me to the stranger who petted me and talked about me in front of lots of people. I felt like a slab of tuna. She wanted me to play with a dumb toy. When she showed everyone my tummy and tried to pet it that was the end of my patience. I bit her! I was put back in the cage. That stranger played with the other 27 cats in the cages and kept looking at us. A pink ribbon was hung on my door. Meowmie was excited that I had won six place even if I did bite the judge. I never got entered in another cat show. Point made.

My hobby as a kitten and young cat was bird chasing. My favorites were humming birds. It takes skill to grab one out of the air. I soon leanred to hide from Meowmie so I could have my snack or she would take them away from me. When I was four I dared a pigeon nest. I was beat up pretty bad. No more birds for me. It was two years before I would go outside and then only at night. I have overcome that now but I still leave birds alone.

Food is the highlight of my life now. I like to eat. I live to eat. Once a month Meowmie buys cooked, peeled shrimp for dad and myself. He gets a half pound and I get a half pound. Ham is my next favorite. Steak, chicken, cheese, tuna, canned cat food, Science Diet dry all work together to keep me interested in my hobby. I am a tad overweight and that bothered me at one time but not anymore. Anyone in my house gets out of line I just stare at them until they straighten up. My largeness gets me more obediance and that's always good.

We have lived in a couple of different houses over the years. As long as the furniture stays the same I don't mind. I do have a favorite basket. We got another d*g. I lost a sisfur and got another. No concern of mine. Life goes on. Sealy and I are still best friends. I belong to the Cats with D*Gs group. We live in Arkansas now, on a lake. I take my loveliness outside once in awhile. I demand to be petted often and my demands are met. As long as the world remembers I am top cat every thing is fine indeed.

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