My Story!

Dear World,

Mama L.’s friend Amy Lee asked ME to tell the story of my life, because she thought it very interesting. (I couldn’t agree more!  Notice she didn’t want to hear more about the Stupid Dogs.) So without further ado, the following is the unabridged[1] account of my humble beginnings.

It was a cold and stormy night[2].  My birth mom and sister and brother were enjoying our naps when we were suddenly thrown into a white van with no windows. The humans with whom we had been living decided that they didn’t want us anymore. After driving around for what seemed to be hours, they threw us out at the edge of Mosswood Park, next to a very busy street with cars speeding by. Flocks of gigantic geese – hundreds of them[3] – were feeding nearby. They towered ten feet over us[4], and they were fierce. I believed they would have eaten us[5], if it wasn’t for what happened next.

As fate would have it, at that exact moment, Mama M. and Mama L. were driving towards their gym. They drove past a couple of blocks when Mama L. said to Mama M., “You know, that just didn’t look right.”  And Mama M. said, “Yes, that was odd, let’s turn around.”[6]

The white van with the mean humans had already left by the time the two Mamas arrived. We were huddling at the base of the nearest tree because we were so frightened! We had never been outside before and the world was huge and loud and terrifying. The two Mamas approached us slowly – their voices were so soothing – and my birth mom took to them immediately. I didn’t trust them at first, after what the other humans just did to us, and it was quite a while before I could trust these two.[7]

The two Mamas sat there with us a while, and debated on what to do next. Mama L. tried to make a call to Animal Control but she couldn’t get through because it was a Sunday and they were already closed. They then left us again, further confirming my fears that all humans eventually leave.  My birth mom next tried jumping up the three with me in her mouth, but she did not succeed. She did not have the strength to carry us up the tree, even as she was trying to save us from the marauding geese![8]

I couldn’t believe my one-month-old eyes[9] when the two Mamas came back with a big box and some kibbles and water. My birth mom immediately went to Mama L. and sat on her foot, purring with thanks. When the two Mamas brought us “home”, I realized why they didn’t know what to do with us at first. They already had three cats at home. Two were diabetic but loveable, Uncle Gus and Auntie Annabelle But there was also Uncle Dewey, and he was just plain old mean to us. He was also really big and loud and in-your-face obnoxious. Anyway, the Mamas decided to keep us in the garage over the weekend to figure out what they should do next.

They came in to check on us regularly, and brought us goodies to eat. My birth mom had already potty-trained us, so the two Mamas were pleasantly surprised. We were having lots of fun climbing in and out of boxes and other play areas in the garage, when the two Mamas decided to move us into the house, into the back bedroom because they can keep the door shut from the rest of the house for our protection. We romped in there for a while (it was much cozier than the garage), and the two Mamas made a decision to keep my birth mom (whom they now named “Betty”) and to raise and adopt us out. They named my sister “A”, me “B”, and my brother “C” although his name changed to “FuzzButt” later. Apparently they didn’t want to get attached to us by giving us names.

Betty was allowed to explore the house because she was making quite a racket from being kept in the back bedroom. We were only allowed out when there was supervision by the Mamas, especially when Uncle Dewey was in the house because he did not like us much. It wasn’t an issue really because Uncle Dewey spent much of his time outside now.

For a short while, things were fine at our House, but I still had a hard time around humans. My brother and sister were more trusting, and had no trouble playing with the Mamas when they were around. The Mamas brought us lots of treats and toys – we pretty much demolished everything. One time, Mama L. put a bag of kibbles inside a cat carrier and we demolished that too. Anyway, things were progressing nicely, when one day I noticed that my brother FuzzButt was gone. We never saw him again. And a few days after that, my sister “A” was gone. It all happened so quickly. My Mama L. told us later that they had both found great homes to go to. “FuzzButt” was renamed to “Noki”, and “A” was now “Addison”.

Nobody wanted me. I was too shy and timid, and I didn’t like being around humans. I did not mind being around Uncle Gus or Auntie Annabelle, but my birth mom Betty would always chase Gus down to beat him up. The two Mamas were getting worried, because they found a pretty bad scratch on Uncle Gus one day.  I think Betty was only trying to protect me – she was a good mom – but the two Mamas said something about Uncle Gus not being able to heal his wounds because he was diabetic.

Later, after many hushed discussions behind closed doors, the two Mamas threw me and Betty in a big cat carrier and whisked us away in their car. Unlike the white van of my distant memories, this automobile had windows! However, it was just as mean and evil when it became apparent that the two Mamas were going to abandon us! I became quite alarmed when I realized that there was no escaping this. I was terrified! My panic caused me to find my voice and I howled and yowled like there was no tomorrow. As far as I was concerned, my life was over! Mama M. kept on driving, and kept on saying “We have to be strong”, while Mama L. cried quietly in the front seat. I think she had a soft spot for undercats like me.

They took us to a noisy place called the East Bay SPCA. Some rude people at the front counter told the two Mamas that there was an abundance of black-and-white cats and kittens, and that if we couldn’t get adopted they will likely put us down[10].  I kept my eyes locked on Mama L. the entire time, silently communicating to her that if she didn’t stop this it would be like committing murder.

It didn’t work at first. I really thought it was the end for me.

The next few days were dim and hazy. I don’t remember much except being scared and confused. The next thing I knew, I woke up groggy[11] at some other strange place and some woman saying how “unsocial” I was. But then I recognized the smell of the blue cat carrier and the sound of Mama L.’s voice! It did work! She had come back for me after all! I had never been so happy in my entire life as that one moment when I realized how much the Mamas loved me.[12]

I still yowled and howled all the way home (because I still hate cars to this day), but I was coming HOME! And now I have my own name, Beatrice The Cat!


[1] For the sake of authenticity and accuracy, the Editor will make appropriate corrections to this Story.

[2] It was a beautiful October day in the Bay Area. The time was approximately 5:00 p.m.

[3] There were approximately fifty or so geese.

[4] Maybe by about eighteen inches.

[5] A typical goose is vegetarian and has no preference towards a feline diet.

[6] This is true, but only as the Editor remembers it. Beatrice The Cat was not present in the car at the time.

[7] Editor’s note: It took Beatrice four months to approach us on her own.

[8] Slight exaggeration; the geese were nearby but nowhere near them. And they were certainly not “marauding”.

[9] According to the veterinarian, the kittens were approximately one month in age when we found them. Mama cat was approximately eight month old, still a kitten herself.

[10] Editor’s note:  This is true. We wandered around out front where the cats were “on display” for adoption, and about 90% of them were black-and-white cats/kittens.

[11] Beatrice had to be spayed because she could be released. There is still a green dot on her belly from the incision.

[12] Editor’s note:  We immediately tried to get Beatrice back, after the both of us moped around for the entire day after we took them to the EBSPCA. Getting her out was made even more difficult by the staff. We had to appeal directly to the Director of the Clinic by writing several long emails to him. We finally got Beatrice back one week after we took her in.


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