
By Maui
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Maui, that's me, the most photogenic cat on the planet. My
welcome at the cat shelter was wearing thin because I was considered
“borderline” adoptable. I had attitude, with a capital A. Whenever people
would walk by me, I'd hiss and try to rake their arms. What a howl to see
them jump and scream. After Julie dragged me home (hissing and spitting), my
true nature was revealed—spoiled brat princess diva. Even though I’m eighteen
now, I'm still feisty, but we cats have got to keep our sibs (and servants)
in line. Right? |

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This is Petey. When he was a kitten,
he almost died of distemper, which is why he’s challenged in so many ways.
He’s an old man now, deaf, and suffering from feline dementia. Petey was rescued from a trailer home along with thirty
of his brothers, sisters, first cousins, nephews, aunts—you get the picture.
I give Petey a break because he’s so pathetic. |
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William is a big scaredy cat. People
call him semi-feral, but he’s all over the human servants if there’s beef or chicken handouts. I like him because when
we have a smackdown at breakfast every morning, he
always defers to me. He’s imprinted on Petey and
shows it by rubbing all over Pete and kissing his face. He even uses Petey as a pillow. The servants are convinced William is
gay. Personally, I think he’s bi or pan. Most definitely queer. |

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Whimsy is a foster kitten who came to
visit so often she was finally adopted. She has a genetic defect that caused
a severe deformity in her back legs. Her left back leg had to be amputated
and the right leg is just a stump, so when she runs she sounds like a
kangaroo. Unfortunately, she’s grown too big for her britches and thinks
SHE’S in charge. Back off, beeotch—or else. |

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Toby is Whimsy’s brother, and they’re both got the screechy
vocal gene. I wish they’d Shut. Up. I’d say Toby’s a dope, but he figured out
how to climb over the eight-foot fence, which cost the servants their life
savings to install. Toby should be in the Guinness Book as having proven to
the world there’s no such thing as a cat fence. |

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Julie calls us all shelter rejects. (She thinks she’s funny.)
Every day our moms tell us how lucky we are and how loved we are, blah, blah,
blah. You'd think we were children the way they carry on. We took a vote and
decided we'd keep them around--for now. |

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