Who Own Me
I am their slave. 😼
Penelope (Penny)
Penelope is the oldest of the bunch, around 16–17 years old. I adopted her from the shelter as an adult cat; we think she was about 1–2 years old at the time — and she absolutely suckered me. At the shelter, she crawled right into my arms and started purring immediately. I was done for.
Once we got her home, however, the truth emerged. Penny will beg for pets… but only about two or three. After that? Your hand becomes her snack. 😂
Penny loves humans and will run right up to strangers, though she’s far less enthusiastic about the other cats. She tolerates them — barely. We’ve begun calling her Grumpy Granny, because she growls at everything. And I mean everything.
Pet her too much? Growl.
Another cat walks past her? Growl.
You shift slightly in your seat next to her? Growl.
Her growl is much worse than her bite — it’s mostly just commentary on life. Penny is also a bit camera shy, so I don’t have many photos of her, but I did manage to capture one of her rare sweet-mama moments while she was grooming Draco in his sleep. I’m sure the second he woke up and moved, she growled at him. 😼
Bella was about 15 years old. We adopted her alongside Penelope, but Bella was a newborn kitten at the shelter. Bellatrix (yes, we are Harry Potter fans) and I weren’t always close. She was very timid, hissed at strangers, and barely tolerated pets.
After some tragic changes in our household, something shifted in her. Bella became my lovey girl. She started laying with me, chatting constantly, and bickering with me every time I entered the kitchen. She was convinced she was starving — because she could see the bottom of her bowl. We had this argument daily.
Bella was my alarm clock. Every morning at 8:30, she would walk up and down my bed, sometimes climbing directly on me. She checked if I was still alive by sticking her face into mine, and the moment I opened my eyes, she’d start purring at full volume.
You don’t have to work to pet her anymore — just put your hand out and she’d rub her face against it. And if she felt ignored? A gentle paw tap to remind you she existed.
Rest in peace, my sweet, sweet lovey girl. ♥
Draco — lovingly referred to as Stinky Boy — is the baby. He’s about 10 years old now, and no… he doesn’t actually stink. 😂
I rescued Draco from a busy work parking lot. I was on break near my car when I heard tiny mewing. I was parked near the only tuft of grass in this massive concrete lot, and there were these tiny eyes peeking out from under a leaf. I mewed back (yes, I did), and he came out — then promptly ran under my car.
I panicked. I was terrified he’d climb into my engine or get hit when I left. I had coworkers helping me search for him for two weeks. On my day off, I got a call from my supervisor:
“We have your cat. He’s in HR. Come get him.”
I drove 45 minutes on my day off to pick up this tiny baby — no bigger than my hand. Someone had either dumped him or he’d been abandoned by a stray mama. Either way, he was mine now.
Draco is my lover boy. He sits with me all day, climbs into my lap, and sleeps with me at night. He gets hilariously jealous if I talk to the other cats — or even to Alexander online. He’ll immediately get up and wedge himself between me and whoever is stealing his attention.
He sits around with his tongue hanging out like a dog, comes when I call him like a dog, and hops right into my lap. I can pet, poke, boop his nose, tug whiskers, spread toes, and tickle toe beans — he accepts all of it without complaint.
Unless I try to put medicine in his ears.
Then he’s gone. 💨
So there you have it — I am officially, unapologetically a cat lady. Anyone who says cats don’t have personalities or aren’t as loving as dogs… I will fight you. 😸
I knew I was going to get carried away on this page. Thanks for enjoying this little peek into my personal life. 💕