General: Interests: Paws & Claws
	A chronicle of two humans sharing one small house with too many cats.
			by sandra ragan

On the suggestion of my aunt, and because I find myself telling these stories over and over -  you have to live with them to believe it - I decided to make them available to any of you with an interest. As the time permits I will add to this list of strange, bizarre, and funny antics of our live, in-house entertainment center. Sometimes they keep me too busy to write. And sometimes its hard to tell just how many of them there are. I've had cats in my home all my life, but never have I had a crew like this!

The saga began one spring evening in 1995, when I almost stepped on a kitten in the uncut grass of my back yard. She looked very much like a pile of leaf mold with green eyes. She was totally terrified, and frozen into stillness. Later I named her Korry (Greek for "little girl"). A pretty little neighborhood calico (now named Lilly) had given birth to four babies. There were two males and two females. The two females were mostly dark brown, with gold, tan and red spots. Korry was one and the other I names Korky. Both had white lightening stripes on their faces. The boys have since disappeared. The following Spring, Korry gave birth to four kittens. One tan & brown tiger (an Egyptian Mau) female, one white (Abyssinian) male, one dark gray and white male, and one black male with a white spot on its chest. They were named Willow, Shasta, Sylvester, and Raven. As their sex was mostly a mystery till they were grown, I tried to give them unisex names based on their appearance. Lilly gave birth later in the summer to three kittens. Two males (a gray strip and a tan stripe), and a yellow and white female. Lilly had long fluffy hair and this years boys carried that trait. I named them Smokey, Taffy and Mickie.Lilly's babies first appeared around Thanksgiving 1996. They were very small. Smokey fit easily between the ears of the plastic owl in the tree. Taffy was very adventurous, hanging with the "big guys." Shasta was his best buddy. Smokey always came with his mother. Mickie was the last to appear, also keeping close to Shasta. Little did I know that it was Shasta that was keeping close to HER. Hawk was their friendly neighborhood nuisance. Poking at them and trying to make friends. They all knew he was no threat. So when he was in acute intestinal distress that January night, all the cats came to see what the trouble was. When we came home from the hospital without him there was a yard full of concerned cats, worrying about where he was. Hawk had gone to heaven and the cats were there to fill the void. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into! Smokey and Taffy were invited, as was Shasta. Shasta was much too frightened to become a house cat. His sister, Willow, however decided that my chair was a much better sleeping place than a wet flower bed. The siblings; Smokey, Taffy & Mickie. Mickie was sleeping with Shasta and he was trying to convince her that outside was a safer place. Eventually the availability of good food, interesting toys, and proximity to her brothers won out. Smokey (twisted & upside down) Taffy and Willow (the love birds). It was too cold to leave the back door open all night and Smokey came down with an upper respiratory infection. By February an end came to coming and going as they pleased. They were now inside cats. I didn't know at the time that Mickie and Willow were not alone. By the end of April we went from four to eleven cats. All but two of the kitten's found homes. So now we have six. The Nursery Mickie was clueless to the arrival of her kittens. She really wanted to keep only one and have me take the rest. Willow on the other hand gets the "Mother of the Year" award. Hours before her two were born, she took over the nursery AND teaching Mickie. Mickie was as a terrible mother as Willow was good. She dragged the poor things around, much to Willow's horror. "Baby in distress" never failed to send Willow into action. Seven tiny furry monsters roamed the house for months. Its amazing what they can get into! The "uncles" were pretty good parents though it all, cleaning little bottoms, and playing gently with the tiny fur balls. Everyone went into defense mode when people came to take babies away. Water Cat-tasrophies The first major disaster was Mickie and Smokey's doing. Playing behind the washer they pulled the lower hose out and flooded the house on the first spin cycle. I was really glad I bought the Bissell carpet cleaner to pick up after dog. It filled the tank twice before the water was gone. Everyone tried to hide under the bed, in their safe zone, but that's where the water was deepest. Punky and Rascal love to catch my toes through the bubbles in the bath tub. Everyone comes in to see why "the lady" is in the water again. They pace back and forth, swiping their paws in the water and expressing their concern. None of them like baths. Rascal especially thinks he will die from getting his tail wet. Punky isn't worried as long as its only his tail. All of them try to catch the water as it goes down the drain. Smokey and Punky, both, will reach as far down the drain hole as they can reach. Even when the water from the faucet is pouring over their heads. Bananas in Pajamas K, R, A & N.'s Bananas in Pajamas Page ).Now every day is Banana Helping Day! Punkin, aka B2. and Rascal, aka B1. "Banana helping time at the beach" (the platter is about 16" long, on a shelf above my desk.). Recently Smokey tried to "catch" the thing that makes the glug-glug sound in his water dispenser, flooding the kitchen floor with two gallons of water in the process. After several weeks of mopping and frustration, they are back to a single water dish. Such a Rough Life Smokey was sleeping across the top of my monitor*, as he often does. He rolled over in his sleep and fell off. Guess I'm not so old after all. I got both hands under him before he landed across my tablet on his back. I rolled him over onto my chest just as he woke up. He looked up as if to say "how'd I get here?" Then he decided my lap was a much more comfortable place curled up and went back to sleep! He is such a spoiled baby. *I wish someone would invent a tool to keep them off before they develop cancer or something. But the tops of warm boxes that humans are staring at are just to nice to pass up. Especially when you can annoy them with a swishing tail. Punky likes to lay on top the monitor because its the right height to grab handful's of hair out of the others as they walk by. The other day he was fly chasing in the kitchen and got tangled in the Levelors. He and the blinds came off the window and landed in a heap on the kitchen table. Luckily neither of them were hurt. But now he watches the window out of the corner of his eye in case the blinds decide to "attack him" again. His favorite trick is fetch - with almost anything; bottle caps, pieces of crinklely plastic, or little plastic Easter Egg halves. He drops them for you to throw, in your hand when he feels like it. He bats them around awhile and then brings them back to throw again. He's gets discussed if you don't throw them far enough. This has been known to last for over an hour. I often wake up to a bed full of them because he's gotten bored in the middle of the night. Rascal has several nicknames. Among them are "shoulder kitty" - he thinks he's a parrot and loves to watch everything I do from his "perch." The bad part is that he launches himself on me from anywhere at any time, usually without warning. He just digs in wherever he lands and scrambles up - ouch! Have you had a visit from the Cat-Faery recently? They do all kinds of silly things guarnteed to make you smile. Another nickname is "Na Na" - the forth Teletubby. He loves watching them on TV. But its "Super Na Na" who jumps from the top of the TV onto the bed in the morning - a distance of about 8.' Then does it over and over till he wears you out. Then there was the day he tried to clean out his own cat box. He dragged a couple plastic grocery bags into it and filled them with you-know-what. The only thing he couldn't figure out how to do was to get it all out of the box. He had the most discouraged look on his face. Smokey is also one very lucky kitty after being hit in the face by a car. No broken bones and only minor damage to one of those beautiful eyes of his. He's back in his regular place, helping me at the computer. He also answers the phone when he isn't keeping my lap warm - or turns off the answering machine if he gets annoyed by too many messages. (I'm not making that up!). The scariest thing to happen recently started out as fun. Everyone was playing with the "bird toy." This one is a multi-colored mylar tassle on a string at the end of a long stick. They all try to out do each other catching it, Rascal and Punky sometimes jumping as much as 4 feet into the air, with cats on every flat surface in the room. This particular morning I had a couple scented candles burning in their tulip shaped containers. Eric was so intent on getting to the toy that he actually sat in one of the candles. I looked on in horror as flames began shooting out from under his tail! Eric also likes to watch TV. He watches intently, for long periods of time and moves from place to place to get a better view or more comfortable spot. His favorites so far are animal and home improvement shows. He sat through 45min of everything you want to know about dogs, 30 min on how to make a salads, and lay ceramic tile. One day I expect to come home and find it completely redecorated. Now if I could only get him to clean up after the others...... More to come... see the top of the Paws & Claws page for those who are no longer wih us. Return to Paws & Claws Caught little Eric (all of 8 lbs soaking wet) hanging from the hand towel on the refrigerator door, kicking the devil out of the door. He was very proud of himself for subduing such a large "mouse." His latest game is trying to turn on the hall light switch. It sounds like five cats fighting but it's only Eric. He is Smokey's half brother, an orange and white feral tiger. And one of the youngest of my tribe. He was about 4 or 5 months old when he first demanded to live in the house - he thought it was Kittyland. His name came from acting like a little Viking warrior at the vet! I had to get the keyboard drawer because they were writing their own e-mail messages and renaming files. They would turn the computer on just to watch the After Dark fish! None of them have ever behaved like "normal house cats." But then Hawk never behaved like a "normal" dog. One afternoon everyone was asleep and I was deeply involved in a retouch project. Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from behind me! I jumped, all the cats jumped, Stephen at the other end of the house jumped. Rascal had been asleep on the couch behind me. "Grandpa" Butch, who was a VERY large tiger tom (right), was sneaking around, checking things out. He pulled himself up to see what was on the couch and happened to be only a few inches from Rascal's nose. Rascal opened his eyes to Butch's huge face and freaked out, screamed and ran for the bedroom. Poor Butch ran and hid as well. He had no idea it was his fault. It took about 30 minutes to calm everyone down, and for us to stop laughing.