We were born poor kitties into a strange dark place that smelled like motor oil...okay, not really. We were born in the storage room off our current person's parents' house (hereafter referred to as "The Grandparents"), which was also home to the Stay Out of That Lawnmower! ...hence the motor oil smell. My Mommy (our people called her Beauty because she was one...) was a dark brown cat...so dark brown that she was nearly black. She had sleek fur, the Mommy says like a mink, only I don't know what that is so I haven't the slightest idea if that's what she was like or not. All I know is that sometimes when I curl up with Franny, my little sister, it's almost like curling up with Beauty again.

I had four brothers and sisters besides me. There were two that were black like Mommy, one that looked just like me, and Franny, who is the oddball with grey tabby fur. I'm a black tabby with white boots on my back feet and white socks on the front. I look just like my Daddy.

The Grandparents call him Puck, and I think my person named him...but whatever, I call him Daddy. Daddy still lives with The Grandparents, but Beauty left when The Grandparents, The Aunt Susan, and my person left for a long time one summer. I think she went to look for them. That was when I was only a year old, and was already living with my person. Beauty never came home, so maybe she found another nice family to live with...?

That reminds me, before our people went away, there was another cat living with The Grandparents: my Uncle Odie. He had a person of his own, The Aunt Susan, and he got to go in the house a lot. He was an orange tabby, and he liked to play with us kittens before we all left home. He was more patient than Daddy...or lazier. I'm not sure. He took off about the same time Beauty did...but he came back a few times after the people came home.

Anyway, that's where we come from...I don't remember too much about that place, except the day that our person took us on that lonnnnnnnng trip in The Red Noisy Box to Our New Home. I don't know what was actually going on...that was before our person learned to speak tabby...but she came into our room and tried to pick up Franny. Now, my little sister has always been somewhat of a wimp, and that day was no exception. Our person was coming towards her, saying something loud and only saying her name every now and then, and when she reached out for Franny, Franny ran over to me and hid behind me. Well, I guess our person decided that she was going to have to pick up both of us at the same time, since Franny was being so difficult. She did, and we went into the Smaller Blue Box and then into The Red Noisy Box. That's our story...from a small room in The Georgia Place to the first stop in our lives, Our New Home that I've later learned is called West Virginia. But I'll leave that story for later...

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