Happy Birfday to Angel Cocoa Puff

Back in 1997, the Lady was at the stabby place waiting to pick up Angel Huckleberry when a pair of skinny black arms wif long, sharp clawrs reached out from a little square cage an' gwabbed her leg.  The skinny arms belonged to a black froot bat who was trying to convince the Lady to take him home wif her.  He was five weeks old an' weighed twelve ounces.  He had a loooong black tail, but no whiskers.  He had broken them off.  The Lady tried to ignore him, but he made that impossible when he tipped his water bowl over and drug the empty dish into his litter box so that he could stand atop it and be bigger!  The Lady 'dopted him and the techs at the stabby place were furry happy to see him go 'cuz he was noisy an' a pest.  They had named him 'Killer' ... The Lady immediately changed his name to Cocoa Francis Puff.  They were furry happy together.  He was neither noisy nor a pest the whole remainder of his life.

Happy birthday to Cocoa Francis at the Bridge.

Happy Birfday to our first Feline Americans

The lady wanted me to say somfing about those first Feline Americans who entered her life twenty-six years ago!  Those first kitties, along wif their momma, MeeMaw, came to live wif the lady back in 1988.  Happy Birfday to them at the Bridge:  Percy, Lacey Bunz, an' Cookie Monster (who looked whole bunches like me wif his brown furs an' stripes).

Happy Birfday an' Happy Fourth of July!

Toffee

Today is Angel Sparky's Gotchaversary

In 1998, a neighborhood boy brought me a hissy little striped furball.  He was about six weeks old, terrified, malnourished, and flea-bitten.  His back legs were weak and he didn't look like he stood much of a chance.  My mother named him Sparky since it was so close to the Fourth of July.  I added the 'Fuzzypants'.  He turned into a beautiful mancat and he shared my life for thirteen years.

Happy Gotcha Day, Spark!