Go figure….They even have a name for it…Odd–Eyed Cats…. Oh, and a Scientific reason…apparently….me, I am like Momma…I want to believe I was touched by the Angels BUT… on some days you may think, when I am acting out, the Devil in Disguise…..the one with the Little Red Pitchfork.

My Mama Cat noticed nothing on toward about me when my eyes finally opened….okay, okay, all my siblings were lovely shades of black / grey and tuxedoed white with two matching eyes but I was completely white …who knew the color you are randomly assigned can jump-start that  dominant pigment, leaving me with one blue and one green eye?

Still everyone knows how unrelenting siblings can be about your weaknesses…One day my Little Bro asked my Mama…what was wrong with Little White Sissy’s eyes….and that is when she realized, (your kids teach you most the things you know :))) ) she had either birthed a Miracle or a Misery for Life….but you know  the world is full of Stage Moms who Believe that their off spring will change the world and so the DREAM  began….I became The STAR…and my Siblings, my Loyal Gofers….no limitation on those who adore and serve me, oh no…..at least in my head!

So how did I get here, you are probably asking….well, my Mama Cat saw an open door (much to the chagrin of the McHappy Family who had given her a Forever Home). After being adopting, the McHappy’s warned her sternly to never go out that door but did she listen? No, like Eve in the Garden of Eden, Mama Cat bit into the apple and well, it didn’t end well…for her….  

Sure Mama Cat slunk back home to her McHappy Family … to her Forever Home, where she was fed, groomed, petted, even supplied cat nip…but the ♥ wants what the ♥ wants…..so she came home with a kitten caboodle growing silently and secretly (for now) inside of her. And that Virginia, is my humble beginnings.

But that was then and this is now. Life is good but there’s rumors….that we won’t be staying…that we have one paw out the door already…who decides these things? I don’t have a union card.  What can I do to get the best contract which must include a Forever Home, with of course, food, water, toys, cat nip, brushing and pure adultation poured on me….

I got a plan (don’t I always)…If I don’t like any of the prospective families that come to adopt me, I’ll act shy, sleep (with one eye and both ears open).  It seems (from what I can tell) that families love playful kittens that act like monkeys, jumping and cavorting, making them laugh. I will play dead, dead as a door mouse….no one will want me….

I know, I know it will be so hard for me because I have such a huge ego. I tell my siblings they are stray kitties while I am descended from the fine ancient  family lines of the Turkish Angora’s, hence my Odd–Eyes and long silky fur as well as my friendly, outgoing personality that melts the resistance of the Two Footed and the Four Footed alike.  I love to watch them fall under my spell, as I spin my magic web, catching my prey in my sticky trap.

So…In order to provide full transparency (most importante in these Trumped up days): When you stare into my Odd–eyes …There’s no way to see my disguise…But  it’s not over till the fat lady sings…Stick around…Let’s see what it brings….      (Paraphrase P. F. Sloan, Steve Barri )

I want you to stay in touch so I can tell you which family I chose, because I am sure you must be as fascinated by me as I am…. 🙂

If you know any good candidates, give me a shout out….We (the Royal ‘WE’) Believe the Best for the Best….and just, you know, whoever …gets the rest….

Please…when you are carving my epitaph on cold black marble slab, let it read…

‘He tried so hard to show them all that  he wasn’t always mean…..
Yet they all thought each thing he did was just some evil scheme….’  (Paraphrase Hank Williams)

Because….really, I always mean well…

Every cat is born a helpless little kitty, dependent on Mama Cat to sustain life and order …which gets tricky…when you are born a feral….with no cushy baskets to sleep in… no water dishes or dry or wet food, set up in separate stations to prevent the Dominant from taking and taking and taking from the Submissive…..

I knew, I just knew, I had to survive because I had a purpose in life…I would be someone, somewhere, even if I was clueless about backing down when the stakes were high….but hey, I am The Brainiac, not some Risk Management Director, placing my bets, considering the odds.

It wasn’t long (like I was 3.5 weeks old) when ‘Destiny is All’ kicked in and our Momma swooped myself, (Bad Boy Andy), Sister Diva Calico Gen and Brother Muscle Cat Beauregard from a life of utter noisy chaos and destruction at a Tier One Auto Manufacturing Plant and took us to an Urban Suburban Life…well Paradise, …actually.  One little catch….there were three Senior Cats, all female (also feral), who lived there, rescues as well and like Shania Twain…. ‘That don’t impress me much.’

Job #1….eat, eat, eat…outsize, outrank the Senior Cats….show them Tom Cats (The Muscle Cat Beau and me, Bad Boy Andy) rule, and outrank so…move over…. there is some New Sheriffs in town….oh, and Diva Calico Gen, being our sibling ranked before the Seniors because…blood’s thicker than water, so, well, we had her back.  All of this jockeying for position caused a lot of snarling and chasing, ripping around but we were not going anywhere…but then, neither were the Senior Cats…..

I was much sneakier (I am the Brainiac) then Beau, so would avoid confrontations indoors (Momma and Wonder Boy are so judgemental – no sense of one up man ship at all)…but not Beau, who would find himself ejected in to the cold snowy nights to cool down.

As years pile on, only Sweet Diva Calico Gen and myself are left….and one Senior Cat, Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte and like two old rams, we still lock horns…she has me permanently barred from Momma’s bedroom…something to do with my bad behaviour…no doubt….

Still the living room is fair game…I see Momma in that ratty old sweater, I hop up for a suckle and a kneading session….and I spend countless hours grooming the Ultimate Earth Dog Jakita. Even if she is so strict about discipline, still she is as patient as a saint….but I have seen her rolling her eyes when I groom on and on….

So I am hoping, paw toes crossed that when I take my blue ICloud to Heaven, some of my more savory, caring moments will be put on the scale and that they will outweigh the torment I dished out because…honestly, I was only being a Tom Cat

Come to think of it…I am a Catholic.  I’ll go to confession…Say my Hail Mary’s…Get my Last Rites…I’m in…Well, maybe Cat-O-Lic Purgatory for a while….Just glad I’m not one of those WASP (White Ango-Saxon Protestants),,,,like Momma….no hope for them!