Rubbing, rolling, rollicking cats! Big cats, small cats, soft cats, orange cats! White cats, black cats, white AND Black cats. My grandma has nine cats, all with very interesting personalities.

Toe Doe purrs like a motor, and almost as loud as one too. She snores! She loves to be petted, and licks the other cats when they happen to come close. Storm gets angry and hisses at her if she won’t lick his head. He is a very… …well, stormy cat. He is unpredictable like a storm that suddenly appears above you and cries down on your head with, oh, so many tears. Storm loves to be loved, and drips from the nose when he purrs. Normally, when he is inside, you can find him hiding behind the recliner or on top of a box at the end of the hallway.

In my grand-ma’s (or should I say, amazing-ma’s?) words; “Nova is doing you a favor if he lets you pet him.” Whenever I walk out of the room on the side of grandmas house, nova is cuddled up in a box with a cloth over it. The cloth is spread over the whole table, so it makes a smooth and soft environment. Nova’s hair is all over the cloth now. Whenever I pet him, he wiggles around, trying to get in a more comfortable position. Nova sets his own terms for his relationships. He is self-sustained.

These are only three of grandma’s many cats, and are not  most interesting. Grandmas cats all have very interesting characteristics. Sammy likes to stretch himself out in the hallway and roll over and over and over… And over. He stretches his legs out so that he’s longer that my whole arm. Sammy will actually run after you, if not before you, to get petted. The weirdo of this cat-family is Seven, known as the “crooked tailed cat” or “The evil cat”. All of the other cats steer clear of her. She has scratched people for no reason. In fact, only 5 minutes ago she scratched Renae! Whenever I try to catch her outside, she’ll allude me by less than a fingernails (only the white part) height. Just as my arms are around Seven, she’ll dart away into the night. She is playing a game with me. A very annoying and frustrating game!

Betsy, a cat with fluffy orange and white hair, likes to hide behind anything. She stares out at the road behind some long brown grass at the corner of the house. Outside everybody has absolutely zero hope of catching her, but inside she wont run away unless she is predisposed to be fearful. Inside she hides inside a empty space where a drawer used to be.

Ah! I could talk about grandmas cats until this page ran a half mile long! There’s small, curious and fearless Destiny, and gigantic, orange queenly Golda who likes to give “love bites” and rub against you. There’s the rescued barn cat named Taz, a name that is short for ‘Tasmanian devil’. Now she’s calmed down a lot.

All of my grandmas cats are strays, except for Nova- a three month old cat from a pet store. He rubbed up against the class, and if you listened really closely, you could almost hear him saying “take me home! Take me with you! I wan’t to be loved! Oh… *Sob*”.

Each and every animal has it’s own charictaristics, and they are all so… Different! Someday, when I grow up, I think I’d like to have a cat. I’ll name it Gus.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 27th, 2008 at 8:22 am and is filed under America. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.