CSM (Catnip Smoking Man)

"Skinner" is cracking me up because I can't help but here it in Superintendent Chalmer's voice (which would o doubtbe appropriate at times)

I love stories of cats picking their human.

I have a great one from the shelter where I volunteer. Fifa was a tan tabby who had been an office cat (found during the World Cup, which is how she got her name). Her office closed during the Great Recession (through no fault of her own), and she ended up at our shelter.

But Fifa wasn't used to being around other cats. And the shelter has a fairly open floor plan, which meant she was sharing a large room with a number of other cats. Before long, Fifa was transferred to the Senior Room, which was the name for the room reserved for cats that needed a quieter environment. Even so, Fifa developed a bad case of fear aggression. When humans were around, she stayed at the top of her cat tower. If a human tried to pet her, she'd hiss and swat. After a year or so of working with Fifa, I got to the point where she would tolerate my proximity without hissing.

One day, an elderly woman visited the shelter. She was looking for a quite older tabby (7 years or older) -- a cat that would curl up beside her on the sofa while she knitted, watched TV, or the like.

(You know where this is going, don't you?)

We introduced the women to the cats at the shelter, and she seemed fond of several. Then we got to Fifa. Fifa took one look at the women, jumped off the cat tower, and started rubbing up against the woman's ankles.

Fifa was about 5 -- a little younger than the woman had in mind. But Fifa went home with her.

Ugh. Today was the first day back after spring break, but I was up all night with some kind of stomach bug, and there was just no way I'd be able to teach in the morning (I might have been able to handle it in the afternoon), so I called in sick, and now I'm having an anxiety attack about calling in sick too often and losing my job.

That sucks, Hil.

Thanks. I'm calming down a bit now.

I'm sorry Hil.

I love kitty stories.

Penny was the neighbor's kitten and she couldn't keep her so she is mine. Matthew's niece found Duchess in a dumpster when she was about a week or so old. His SIL and niece took care of her for a bit then Matthew took over. Duchess is bonded to Matthew ... although she will sleep on me or near me but still hisses if I try to touch her.*

Scrappy was at Matthew's work with his 2 siblings but other people were able to get them first. Scrappy was the last kitten. He is still very skittish. If you get on the bed he will come find you and cuddle. Last night he curled up next to me on the couch. He will get on Matthew's lap on the couch. But if either of us move to close to him anywhere else he runs.

• I have to be careful when I sleep . A few times I thought the cat next or on me was Scrappy and almost got clawed. Even though Scrappy is about 4 or 5 months old he is almost the same size as Duchess who is 2 1/2 or so (she is a petite kitty).

Vlad and Miss Erzabet No Biting were at the kitty shelter that was two blocks away from my therapist's original office, so I'd go there after therapy to look at kittens and wait for Mr. Loomy. We asked the staff if we could interact with the kittens in a particular enclosure. The tiny black kitten swarmed straight up Mr. Loomy's shoulder, and the tiny tabby came straight to me. We signed the adoption papers that day.

Pearl has a good origin story: someone in my sister's old neighborhood must have known she was feeding a swarm of feral kitties in the back yard, so they dumped 8 unweaned and badly frightened kittens onto the front lawn. My sister is a rescuing angel to cats in need and had raised bottle babies before, so she calmly took them in hand.

The first time I saw Pearl, she was tucked into my sister's cleavage and couldn't hold her head up because she was falling asleep with a full belly. She'd wake up startled and make a tiny hiss to say, Don't You Mess With Me! I was taken immediately, thinking that she was smart enough to understand there might be something to be afraid of, but she was brave enough to defend herself and willing to love anyway.

A miracle occurred and homes were found for all the kitties, except Pearl. I thought I might inquire if any Buffista wanted a kitty because of her Firefly tail with a bright beige spot at the tip. Then I realized that supervising her myself was ideal and she went home with me.

She still likes being wrapped up in cloth, under shirts and blankets. I'm so glad to have my talkative Yap Cat.