Gotcha Day

Gotcha day is when some kitties and their people celebrate the day the people "got cha" I don't like my gotcha day. I like living here (except for that ... boy. I don't like him) but my gotcha day was scary and still is. There were kids running around outside with plastic bags. I was really little and I don't know how I got out there. My grandma found me and caught me and put me on her porch.

I wasn't the only one scared that night. Mom was afraid to leave

her house because scary people had come in and stolen things. My grandma told her to come and see me, and mom did. It was the first time she'd gone out at night since the people took her things. Mom loved me and named me Maggie right away. And a day later I got to go live with mom. But it's still a scary day. Every year these kids come to the door with crinkly bags and I remember being scared and cold. It's bad enough when people come to the door. So I wait in my little hiding place. See? I even have my own radiator. It's comfier than it looks. It is NOT a jail!

Senior Cat

The best part of being senior cat is that I get to be first on the featherbed after Mom washes the sheets. She gets the featherbed all poofy, puts the bedclothes on, and then calls for me to come and depoof it. So here is me on the bed.

And here is me depoofing the bed. It's hard to get up there, but so worth it when I do. Sometimes there are scritches or brushes, but mostly it's just comfy.

I go to jail.

The best thing about my doll bed is that under it is a good place to hide. This isn't a very good picture, but the whole point of being under here is to HIDE. If someone can still take my picture, that takes the whole point out of it. Plus, Mom insists on saying I'm "in jail" which I don't think sounds very nice. I'm not in jail. I can leave whenever I want.

Here is me out of hiding - trying to be cute so I get belly rubs. When I roll on the floor and rub my ear, that means I want scritches.

Nom! Nom! Nom!

This is me on the porch. I don't often get to go here because of that boy. He goes out a lot, and I don't like him. But sometimes he's not there and I can go out and eat things that really gross Mom out. Like spider webs! Yummm!!
Now I'll have to hide. I try to keep some on my whiskers for later, but Mom's going to try to clean them off.

Hee Hee The Bed!!

Sometimes I get the bed. And all of it to myself. That... boy doesn't like it when the blankets and featherbed is off, but that doesn't bother me. And when the bed is made again, I get to be the first to de-poof the featherbed! That's because I'm the Senior Cat. And because I'm ... me.

All Clean Now!

I like to be brushed, but I don't like the kitty bath wipes. Like them or not, though, I have to put up with it. So I do. And then I figure that means I get to sleep on the clean laundry. Why not? I'm clean; the laundry's clean. It's all good.