An Unfortunate Event

Mistress and the adult male and young master have removed all the pretty dangly things from the indoor tree. This took place after the tree inexplicably collapsed while I was playing with it. Young master stated that the tree, not having branches of even length, was unbalanced and was thus likely to fall under any circumstances. However, mistress and the adult male appeared to be quite certain that it was my fault. They appeared particularly exercised about the water that seemed to appear on the rug when the tree overturned. There was much muttering about keeping the floor dry and the carpet continues to be rolled up.

And young master has left the house to return to California. There will be nobody to defend me when incidents such as these occur. I am bereft.

A Cat's Christmas

Humans are useful creatures, although odd. For example, two days ago they brought a large tree into the house. The next day, they spent the evening putting lovely dangly things on it. Clearly, the tree was intended for me to play with -- otherwise, why would they have spent so much time and effort fashioning it to my liking?


So as not to give offense, I obliged by playing with the dangly things arrayed upon the tree. The large white cloth snowflakes, the mirrored balls, the tiny wooden cats (not, I was sad to notice, at all like your obedient servant), hit each other as I patted one, then another, until the bottom of the tree was in motion. It was a lovely sight.

At first the humans laughed, indicating their appreciation for the grace and rhythm with which I prosecuted my task. However, as the pretty things began to fall to the floor, I sensed that they had become less appreciative.

So I retreated to a pile of packages in the corner, resting my head upon them after my exertions. One of the items had a remarkable smell, an exotic yet familiar odor. I was unable to determine precisely what it was, so I resolved to investigate. Although mistress clips my claws (about which some other time), I was still able to tear open the paper around the mysterious odor. The item in question was what the humans call a "catnip mouse" -- how ridiculous. However, it smelled quite enticing, so I spent the next hour lapping and chewing upon it to ascertain that it really contained the catnip that was named on the printed label.

When I awoke, the packages were gone. In their places were piles of paper, ribbon and other litter. Although exhausted, I roused myself long enough to investigate and was rewarded with lovely rustling sounds.

And so passed the day. Young visiting master (he who had presented me with the "catnip mouse") is inclined to feed me many times each day. I show my appreciation often, so that he is not influenced by the tut-tuts and scolding remarks of his mother, the adult female and my mistress. Sadly, I understand that he will be departing in a few days, leaving me to the mercy of the household and its strict regimen. I resolve to encourage him while he is at home.

I discover a box

Today was cold outside, but warm within. I did hear the humans complaining about the temperature and the frailties of the old boiler. However, with my elegant gray fur coat, I was perfectly situated for warmth.

The adult male human was reading, as he always is. He appeared to be reading unbound books -- he kept removing handfuls of paper from a box, looking at them, and then stacking them on a nearby table. Once he had emptied the box, I lept into it, finding it perfectly suited to my size. Although no paper remained, there were several interesting objects still in the box -- a pen, a plastic square (I believe I have heard them call it a DVD container or some such)and a piece of very thin paper with numbers on it (I know it's a receipt, but they think I can't read).

I batted these objects around the bottom of the box for some time, and found myself becoming exercised. Unfortunately, mistress put her hand in the box to demonstrate her love and affection, but I was so excited by the objects to hand that I bit her. I hasten to add that the second my teeth were on that soft flesh, I drew back and did not break the skin. But she was not pleased and stalked off, leaving me to my delightful box.

I am born

Sadly, I remember little about my birth or my first two years of life. In fact, I cannot recall whether it was two years or two months after my birth that I went to live in Minneapolis with two adult humans and two or three young men who had not yet reached the age of majority. There is, however, one thing about which I am quite certain: my original name was not Mitzi. That was awarded to me upon arriving at the spacious house that would become my new home.