I have owned may cats throughout my life, and have discovered that each has it's own unique, and often amusing story to tell. Here are a few of these stories.

Surprise: My mother-in-law was in the process of moving, and didn't want the added responsibility of taking her cats to her new home. My husband, knowing of my love for cats, brought the Momma cat and her three kittens home to me. Now these were "country" cats, and in desperate need of a flea bath, so we put the cats in the garage and headed to town to buy some flea soap. When we returned, we brought the cats into the house and cleaned them up. Later that evening, my son came in and told me "one of the kittens got outside, but I brought it back in". I didn't think anything of it at the time. The next morning I walked into the kitchen, and sitting there were four kittens! I thought at first I was losing my mind! Later, we discovered that a kind neighbor had found the "extra" kitty, and believing it was one of our litter, brought it "home". So we named kitten number 4 "Surprise"!

Surprise's and Scamp's Kittens:  Having found new homes for 2 of the 4 kittens, we were left with "Scamp" and "Surprise". These two affectionate babies grew up . Scamp had always been plump, but Surprise was always a scrawny thing. So when Surprise started getting fat, we knew we were about to be "blessed" (?) with another litter. The blessed day arrived, and after "convincing" Surprise to have her kittens on a bed I made for her in the utility closet instead of my linen closet, she had 5 little white replicas of herself. We had made plans to visit my parents overnight, so after insuring that my cats could survive the night without me, we departed. Upon our return the following day, I went to check the new babies, but they were gone! We started combing the house, looking for the kittens. About thirty minutes into our search, Scamp came in to see what the commotion was all about. For the first time since we'd gotten her, she was skinny!  I quickly realized that we had not one missing litter, but two! Scamp jumped into an antique cream can I had in my kitchen, and when I peeked inside, I discovered both sets of missing kittens. I carefully removed Surprise's kittens, putting them back on their own bed. Surprise turned out to be a very disinterested mother, and wanted to go out prowling. I worried about the fate of her kittens, but Scamp quickly took over. Several times I caught her "stealing" her nieces and nephews, and I tried returning them, but after realizing that no one else was going to take care of them, I let Scamp keep them in her cream can. Eight kittens were raised in that cream can!

Lazarus:  Lazarus came to our home when she was approximately 4 days old, along with her sister. The sweet, senile gentleman across the stret found them under his house, and he feared the mother would not come back, so he brought them to us. (Gee, thanks!) The cat across the street had just had kittens, so I had my kids take these kitty's over there to see if we could convince her to adopt them. My son returned about an hour later, gently cradling one of the kittens, upset because one of the neighbor kids had not been holding it carefully enough. My husband and I took one look and realized this kitten was dead. After gently explaining to my son, he shrugged and said "Where do I bury it at?" So off he went to bury the kitten and return to his play. Awhile later, my daughter returned with the other kitten. It was shivering and obviously hungry, so my husband held the kitten to warm it up while I scrounged the kitchen looking for an eye dropper and milk. Just then, my son returned, looked at the kitten in his father's arms, and asked in disgust "Did you dig that up?". Hence the name Lazarus. What first bacame a humanitarian act in keeping this tiny creature alive soon became an act of love. I returned to midnight feedings, kitten formula, and several unusual procedures the vet informed me I needed to do. She thrived, and became totally spoiled. She is now three years old, and totally obnoxious! She follows me from room to room, not allowing anyone but me to hold or pet her (and even with me she is rather stingy with her affections!).

Nermal: Nermal is one of the newest additions to our family. He was a Christmas kitten, found on my parents doorstep, along with his two brothers, Christmas eve, mostly frozen. My parents took them in, warmed them up, and gave one to us. Nermal was named after the cute, adorable gray kitten that gives Garfield fits. We figured this was fitting, because Lazarus hated him! My parents now live in the house behind ours, and when I go to visit, I will call out "Nermal, let's go to Grandma's". Nermal's tail will go straight up and will remain this way as we walk across the yard. He will go inside, eat, sleep, and play with his two brothers until time to go home! This is the only place he will go with me. He has recently acquired a really annoying habit of believing that he has not been properly fed unless he sees me put food in his bowl. It doesn't matter if the foodbowl is full, he will cry until I oblige him and pour a little more in.

Charlie: Charlie belongs to my parents, and is so eccentric he deserves a mention here! He has been declawed, so he isn't as tough as he thinks he is. He will sit on top of the refridgerator when my parents have company, and when someone goes for ice he will attack them. He cannot hurt anyone, but he seems to delight in scaring them! My father dotes on this cat and has trained Charlie to carry his socks and underwear to the bathroom for him! Dad will tell Charlie it's time for a shower. Charlie will run to the bedroom, and stand patiently as Dad lays clean socks on his back. Charlie will then carefully walk into the bathroom and drop them off. If the socks should happen to fall off, Charlie will sit in the hall and cry until the socks are placed on his back again.

Shala: Shala was origionally a bedraggled stray that appeared on my doorstep one day. She was thin, in ill health, and very, very mean. I took pity on her and began feeding her. She would eat the food, but if anyone came close she would hiss, snarl, and growl. When we moved, I forgot all about this poor stray until I recieved a phone call from the people who had purchased our house. Shala had gotten inside and would not leave, nor could anyone get near her. Feeling responsible, I went to get her. She allowed me to place her in a box and drive her to our new home. When we got there, she jumped out of the box and disappeared. I continued to feed her, and eventually she decided that she would rather live inside. She still would allow no physical contact, but had at least graduated to a low growl if startled. I figured that as long as she used the litter box and didn't hurt anyone she could stay. We continued this strange relationship of me feeding her and her staying in hiding the rest of the time for about a year. One day, as I was sitting on the couch, she jumped beside me and invited me to pet her. She warmed up to me and became one of the sweetest, most affectionate cats I have ever had.