Misty Grey

Here’s Misty’s new shirt.  It isn’t readable in the photo, but the back of the shirt says “You rescued my heart” and I think it is super cute. There were pink and red ones but not in size small. Not sure she would want pink anyway. She’s always been prettiest in purples and blues, I think.

She wasn’t terribly pleased with it, but I think that is because the arm was too narrow for her upper leg. I’ve taken it off and cut the arm wider for her, plus removed the tag at the back now that I know it fits. It was only $5 anyway. Good timing, too – she was scratching at the stitches a little bit with her back leg earlier. I think I will put it on her whenever she is up and around now. She still sleeps like a rock, so I don’t worry about her messing with it when she is sleeping.

She WAS a rescue, by the way. I got her from the local animal shelter when she was ~8 weeks old, and she has been a treasure ever since.  The reason written on her cage that the former owner gave her up was that they were moving.  I am not sure how you decide to give up a pet that you’ve taken responsibility for because you are moving… makes no sense to me.  Anyway – their loss, my gain. And Misty’s too – I am sure someone who would put her in the pound, whatever their reason, can’t possibly have appreciated her the way she deserves.  I have been SO lucky to have her. She is often called the “perfect kitty” by my family because she is so perfect and good.  She came with manners, I didn’t teach them to her.  She says “please” so very sweetly when she is asking you for something, and “thank you” if you give whatever it is to her, or when you let her in or out the door.  She is quiet at night (usually) and when she jumps up on the bed she lands so precisely that you don’t hear anything or feel the bed move – she just materializes. Sometimes she does that to my lap too.  It can be very surprising to suddenly have a cat appear in your lap.  She must have lived inside before we got her, and apparently in a place with very square furniture. When she was very young she had a hard time with our squarish kitchen table’s rounded corners.  She would hop up on it and then walk along the edge until she got to where the corner would’ve been if it wasn’t rounded… and then step right off the edge and fall.  She wasn’t *really* allowed on the kitchen table, but before she learned the rules she had a habit of hopping up on it when she was excited to get closer to us humans, she would jump up and walk toward me, looking at me and usually “talking” as she came – not watching where she was putting her feet at all.  I probably saw her do this a good dozen times before she got wise. She had never seen stairs before we let her out into the hallway, or at least I don’t think she had because when she saw them she acted like she was exploring an alien planet.  She loves to perch up high and look down on things – another sign that she always lived inside before we got her, I suspect.  In my old apartment her favorite place to sleep was on top of the refrigerator, she would look down upon us and everything in the apartment like a little queen surveying her kingdom.