I'm a Good Girl, I Am!

Or: A Tribute to Alice

By request--sorry, brother Ricky, the people want cats. Cats they shall have.

I still don't feel much like writing so we'll ease back in with a tribute to Alice.

Alice is our eldest cat, and 8 year old brown patch tabby who is Queen of All Things.

Alice was mis-named. She should have been Eliza Doolittle, the poor little Cockney guttersnipe turned into a beautiful young lady. That's Alice. The Cat Care Society told us that some children found her at a bus stop, scooped her up, and brought her as a gift for their teacher. As best we can figure, she was feral. Our little princess.

Alice loves Nigel, and really, only Nigel. I'll do if he's not around, or if she wants to make him jealous, but really it's all about the love Alice and Nigel share. She is persnickety and demanding, and she will hiss and spit at anyone who bothers her. And the list of what bothers her appears to be long.

Her favorite thing, aside from sitting on Nigel's chest and rubbing her face against his, is to be outside. She has a pretty hot pink leash and harness and she also gets to roam the backyard if one of us is out with her. And every day, beginning about an hour before Her Beloved gets home from work, she sits in the back window, crying and pining--for him or to go out, or a combination of the two. She loves to eat grass and puke. She loves to explore the backyard and "Born Free" plays in my head everytime she makes her bold escape.

The poor little thing had thyroid surgery this winter. She's always been a slight cat, but she dropped weight rapidly and went from looking like her normal royal self back into the ragged cat of days gone by. Her fury was patchy and matted and her disposition was worse than usual--she would steal food off your plate and then scratch and bite at you if you dared to stop her. We knew something was wrong. The picture taken above was right after her surgery and you can see the bare spot on her neck.

And Alice doesn't do anything halfway. No, sir. She had the highest thyroid levels of any cat our vet had ever seen--I happened to just stop by the office as Andy was receiving the results by fax. His eyes popped when he saw them and he later apologized for his reaction. Then, when they removed her thyroid, they learned that her thyroid was three times the largest they'd ever removed. They have it in a jar; let me know if you want to go see it.

So, anyway, Alice is fine now. This is Alice and Nigel, having one of their cuddles. To see them together, you'd think she was actually nice....


She is one of the funniest cats we've ever lived with. Every day is an adventure--and a new set of demands and needs--with Alice. And please, don't hate her because she is beautiful.