Well, I finally figured out how to set up this blog. If Mom had kept her nose out of it, we might have been set up sooner. Sometimes I think humans are just put on the Earth to mess things up.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Apache, and I was born in Melrose, Massachusetts, many years ago, at least in cat years. I was born in a feral colony in the woods, on a hill in Melrose. I don't remember an awful lot from those times, but whenever it is cold or rainy, or both, I remember snuggling up to my real mom. She would purr and wash us and keep us as warm as possible. There were also a few times when our real mom had been teaching us to hunt, when I caught a mouse or a bird. It was most exhilarating. Most of my brothers and sisters were pretty good at hunting, except for my brother, Cherokee. He was a little klutzy and liked to play more than anything else. One day, some humans came up on our hill and left some boxes with good-smelling food in them. Being exceedingly curious, I went to investigate, and so did some of the others. That was the last time we saw our real mom. We were taken to cages and one day we woke up with cuts in our tummies and we felt pain. We then passed on to a foster home (I learned later what it was called), where there were many other cats waiting for adoption. For two years or more, Cherokee and I were constantly passed over for the house-born cats.
One day in 2001, Mom adopted me. She saw my picture on an internet site and said I was the most beautiful cat she had ever seen! She's really into the internet thing. After adopting me, she took me to her house where another cat lived. His name was Jack and he came from Cape Cod. He was sick and I stayed by him most of the time and cleaned his face for him and tried to purr him well. He just got sicker and sicker until one day Mom took him away in the box and I never saw him again. Mom cried a lot and said she missed him.
Well . . . there I was all alone in her house. I'd been there only about two weeks when all that happened. I grew very fond of Mom, but she was gone an awful lot. We lived in Malden and Mom worked downtown, in Boston. She took me to the vet, who stuck me with a needle and took some of my blood. Some time later, after that nasty vet took some more of my blood, Mom came home with a box containing, guess who - my brother, Cherokee. What dumb luck! At the foster home, I had been pretty much of a queen, I was the most beautiful female there and had the run of the house. Cherokee, being a stupid male, and klutzy at that, had lived in a room with a lot of other males. He was still pretty wild. Mom opened the box and he flew out and climbed almost up to the top of the nine-foot wall. He then ran out into another room and hid. Mom was beginning to wonder what she had done. If she had asked me, I would have told her to take him back, pronto.
As for beauty, I am a gorgeous calico cat. Cherokee was a dumb tuxedo (black and white) cat. Mom said he was handsome, but I guess it's all a matter of taste. Well, I had to make the best of it, since I really had no control over the situation. After some time (I think about six weeks), Cherokee came out of hiding and ended up becoming as fond of Mom as I was, maybe even more so.
Yours,
Apache
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