Cleo, the Cat Who Owns Me

It was a dark and foggy night... at least, we think it was dark. The fog was so thick it was impossible to tell. My daughter got off work an hour early, and so was able to accompany my husband to a little town about 25 miles away neither had ever been. They crept through the fog, unable to see the street signs even when they were right in front of them. After a couple of slow-moving, frightening hours, they pulled into the right driveway, and left with their prize... a 2-month-old Siamese kitten, not much more than a pound and a half, with a typical full-bodied yowl, "MerRROWWW" that once heard is never easily forgotten. And "MerRROWWW" it was, all the way back to town; "MerRROWWW" when they pulled into Sheetz for subs at 10:30 at night, "MerRROWWW" (or maybe "MeOUUUT") all the way home. And then, blessedly, silence. The baby was brought into the house with 4 adults, talked to and fussed over for several hours until I got home from work. She could have very easily bonded with any of them, but she waited for me! You'd better believe I was very nervous when I pulled into the driveway and saw nearly every light we have glowing like Christmas. But as soon as I walked into the room with her, it was love at first sight.

CleoCatra, the gorgeous Seal Point my husband bought for my birthday in 1996. Cleo likes to sit on my shoulder when I watch TV, with her tail draped across the top of my head. She's the only cat I've ever had who goes wild over catnip, trying to paw open the drawer I keep the jar in when I get home from work. Her favorite foods are Chef BoyArDee spaghetti, chili beans, and vegetarian pizza. Her best friend is RB, my daughter's cat.