Saturday, February 7, 2015

I AM LATIFA! by Latifa, the cat

Dorrie doesn't write about us cats often enough, and she especially doesn't write about ME as much as she should.  I believe the fact is that Dorrie is jealous because I am Mom's favorite.  I know this because Mom has told me in secret, but secrets are meant to be shared, in my opinion.  So I will just tell you flat out that I am Mom's favorite cat, and if I were a dog -- which would be a fate pretty much worse than death -- I would be her favorite dog, too!

This is one of the best viewpoints in the house -- on top the fridge.
The fact is that Mom is my favorite, too, and I basically have no use for any cat or dog in the house.  I never snuggle with anybody except for Mom.  When the other four cats are all hanging out on the bed in the cat room, you will never find me hanging out with them.  I am always in another room, sleeping in another bed.

There's a lot of competition for Mom's lap, but I try to get there first, if I can!
Piper talked about me some when I first came here.  I had four kittens, but two had already been adopted.  So I came here with my two little tabby girls.  Pretty soon, they got adopted together and went to a home where there were twin boys.  After that, I got spayed, which was fine with me because I would rather do lots of other things besides nurse a bunch of mewling kittens.

Even though I have no use for kittens, Mom let me inspect this
scratching thing she bought for our fosters.
The reason I ended up in a foster home was that my previous mom couldn't afford to keep me anymore.  We were living in her car, which wasn't too much fun, even though she loved me.  She found homes for two of my kittens, and then she took me and the other two to the Humane Society.  Now I have a new mom, but at first she was just my foster mom.  Then we found out that I had hip dysplasia, and she decided to go ahead and adopt me herself.  I'm glad of that, even though I have to put up with all the other idiot cats and dogs here.  And so far, my hips have never given me any trouble.  I can jump up on all sorts of really high places.

This is where I sit while Mom takes a shower.
Someone has to make sure she doesn't drown, and I take my duty seriously!
My name, Latifa, means "gentle, kind, and pleasant" in Arabic and in Swahili.  The other cats laugh when I tell them that, but I have usually been gentle and kind with Mom -- although also a little pushy sometimes, too.  For instance, Mom never allowed cats to get on the kitchen counter or on the dining table before, but through sheer persistence, I wore her down.  I have even been known to steal a bite of food off Mom's plate when she was busy reading and wasn't paying attention.  I especially like anything with tuna, chicken, cheese, or eggs in it.

If I can't sit in Mom's lap, the next best places to keep warm
are in front of the space heater or on the hearth.
I only weigh five pounds, and that makes me the smallest cat in the house.  It even makes me smaller than Dorrie and Marius, but about the same size as Tristan.  I am sleek and black and beautiful.  I have an excellent way of purring that Mom really loves.  Part of my purr is just a regular catlike purr -- but pretty loud -- and then I also add an extra layer of higher-pitched whirring, almost chirping sounds.  None of the other cats here can purr like that, although Valeria, the foster cat we had here for a while, could do it.  I'm glad she's gone now!

If Mom sleeps too late, I find it useful to walk back and forth across her chest.
My very favorite thing to do is snuggle with Mom in bed at night.  She usually starts out sleeping on her back, and I cuddle into the crook of her right arm.  Later, when she turns over on her side, I sleep in the curve of her body, which is the most fabulous place of all to sleep.  When I first get in bed with Mom -- after the dogs have gone under the covers to sleep on her left side -- I do my special purring, and Mom pets me and rubs my ears and my belly and all over.  I roll around in a kind of ecstasy, purring and purring.  It's really a beautiful thing.  If Mom stops petting me too soon, I sometimes have to head-butt her hand or tap her face with my dainty black paw to get her started again.

Here I am eating my food on the kitchen counter.
That annoying little dog, Marius is eating his meal in the background.
I don't like the dogs, especially Tristan and Marius.  Dorrie is okay because she doesn't chase cats or bark at us.  But the boy dogs are mean.  They chase us and bark, and frankly, I stay away from them, if I can.  Anderson is afraid of the dogs, too, and so is Jason.  Getting to eat our meals is kind of a problem.  I have stopped even trying to go upstairs to the cat room to eat.  And anyway, I don't want to eat with those other dumb cats.  So Mom just puts some food on the counter for me to eat.  Sometimes I eat it and sometimes I don't.  Or sometimes Anderson eats it because he doesn't want to run upstairs with the dogs chasing him.  Usually, I get enough food to satisfy me, but there are times when I eat really fast, and then I puke my food right back up.

The basement is one of the best places ever to explore.
It is full of intriguing cobwebs, and sometimes you can even find a mouse!
Anyway, I'd say my life here is a happy one.  It would be better if I could have Mom all to myself, but I guess that will never happen, so I try to be content with what I have.

The top of the chest of drawers in Mom's bedroom is another
good vantage point.  Trust me, I know them all!