I’m Misty (on the right in the photo). I try not to be afraid of my shadow, although I know my humans think I’m nervous. I feel safe and loved when I stretch out on top of my human Jane’s arms while she tries to type on the computer. I purr and gaze into her eyes. I sniff her nose. That’s better than sniffing the other cats’ butts, which she thinks is disgusting. It’s just what we do. I’m a cat, after all.
Anxious, is what I am. At least that’s what Lindsey, the Vet said. She said I’m sensitive. I think she is too. I know that she thinks we have something in common, both being introspective and stuff like that, but I still hate going to the Vet. When I see my human Jane put on her coat, just in case she intends to transport me there in that horrible carrying case, I hide and she can never find me. Nayh, nayh, nya-nayh, nayh. I’m faster than she is – or than my other human, Maury.
The last time my human Jane dragged me to that awful place, it was because I was pulling out the hair on my tail. I got a shot, which strangely, made me not want to pull out my hair anymore. It only lasted for a week though, and now I’m back to running around, pulling my hair out!
Even so, I’m really happy here. I get to play with my sister and this older cat, Cocoa, who seems to like my sister more than me.
I’m the only one of the three cats in the family that likes to retrieve. Every morning, my human Jane has her breakfast and afterwards remains at the dining room table reading the newspaper. I carry over my favorite toy, that has a bell inside it and drop it by the chair. I tell her it’s there and she always knows what I mean. I have her very well trained. She then throws it across the living room and I race across the room to pick it up. When I carry it back to her and drop it by the chair I don’t even have to tell her it’s there. She’s been watching me. Then she throws it again.