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These are stories submitted by Siamese owners to celebrate their 'Meezers'
These pages are graciously maintained by Lana Graham

I have a Siamese named Bastet who thinks she owns the house. If she can't find anyone to talk to, she will sit in the hallway and meow really loudly. Apart from being an attention seeker, she is also very smart. One time she got locked in my sisters room at night and needed to go to the toliet, so she woke up my sister licking her face.
Hi. My name is Chechenia and I'm 2 years old. In this house I live in there are lots of shelves, all full of ornaments. Of course, none of them can.orgpare to me. So, when I feel about embelishing the house I stand like a statue, usually in a place where everyone can admire me. But that tires me after a while - then I go for some real action. Hunting moths is really fun. Once, I've spent the whole night in the kitchen, working on a 3-inch moth. But the taste was not as good as I'd expected, so I only took a few bites in the end. These are my favourite hobbies. The only thing I like better is tapping on my human's belly when he's on his bed. That's just like little cheetas do on their mother's bellies - I've seen it on one of these wildlife videos.
Hi, I'm Nicky. My brother, Koko, and I are four-year-old twin meezers. We take our household responsibilites very seriously. Every morning Koko inspects the shower to make sure it is okay for our female human to enter. He must first stand on his hind legs and sing. Then he must make a thorough inspection. Only then is she allowed to step inside. Later in the day we do our chores in the kitchen. Our people installed child-proof locks on the cabinets to keep us out. Ha! One cupboard with a built-in lazy susan has a lock that is kitten -play to open. One of us will get inside and the other will swing him back and forth. Sometimes the door "accidentally" closes and then we must wait for one of our humans to open it. Koko has toy fabric lobsters that he routinely takes to dine. I don't mind him putting them in the food bowl too much, but will not tolerate them swimming in the water bowl. When this happens it is my duty to announce it loudly before removing the offending crustacean. Koko gets quite indignant about this. After our hard work our people find us sweetly cuddled together on the bed when they return home. We say anything wrong in the house is the fault of THE ANONYMOUS CAT who.orges in while they are away and tears everything up. I'm sure they never suspect us, being the sweet, lovable darlings that we are!
After losing my 13 year old Seal Point, Sam I Am (Siam), who weighed in at 19 lbs, and two months of crying, we decided to get another. The only way you can get over the loss of a Siamese Cat is to buy two more. Brat and Baby are brothers, Baby being the runt of the litter. They are fascinating Princes and more courious than "George" ever could think of. They go from upstairs to downstairs in a single bound, able to fly over the coffetable, are faster than any l.orgotive, and more loving than Romeo. Brat is as I write playing with a pen on the.orgputer table and will follow me anywhere. Baby prefers his dominance over the upstairs business and employees. They are loving to each other and love to hop into trash cans, and under the covers in the middle of the night when it gets cold. They are the new joy in our lives. May we have them at least for thirteen more years. They are the most social breed of all and we enjoy every mischevious minute of them.
When we first had Samantha, we had her only 2 months when we were forced to give her a new home. Well, we relocated within our city and after 6 months was able to get our cat back. The very first day we got her in her new home, she scooted out the front door, and she was gone. We thought we lost her for good. She was gone. After a week and a half had gone by we started checking the animal shelter but no Samantha. Finally one night after pretty much thinking she tried to go back to her old home, which was clear across the city, my son thought he heard a noise at the door. He opened it up and in ran Samantha. A little underweight but happy to be home.. Our prayers were answered. She now is fully adjusted, had all her shots, "fixed" in case of more midnight strolls, but we love her and she is now more calm and collected. She now can go out and she.orges back within an hour or two. All cat...
My cats are called Sophie and Simon. Simon is 6 - he's a Lilac Point. Sophie is 5 and she is a Seal Point. I have millions of Siamese Stories about them and don't know where to start! They used to raid the fridge - a child lock didn't fool these meezers. I remember.orging in from work one Friday night to find them tucking into a pizza. Sophie is well known for waiting in the kitchen for the toast to pop up, then stealing it and running away with it. She is also terrible for confusing tampax with white mice. She steals them out of the bathroom and has been known to watch me put one in my handbag and then go in after it. She has embarrassed me in front of the window cleaner, who had.orge to collect his money, by running around with one in her mouth! When there is trouble, it is usually Sophie in the middle of it. Simon's usually a good lad but he does get led astray by his little sister. She's the one who usually encourages him to empty the kitchen bin, raid the cupboards, sneak into the linen basket to sleep etc etc.... but a meezerless life would be far less interesting!
When I was moving to a new house, my two kitties Perseus and Loki were frantic! We let the kitties roam the now empty house while we were at our new one unloading. When we returned to the house to collect our kitties, there was only Perseus! We looked everywhere for Loki, but to no avail. Finally, after hours of searching inside and out, we returned to our new home. Poor Perseus walked everywhere in the house meowing his "Loki meow." I returned to my old house later that night to look again. Still no Loki. The next morning I returned again. As I walked in the door, I saw a tail! Loki had hidden underneath the kitchen cabinets! I hugged my poor boy and took him home where Perseus proceeded to bathe him nose to tail!
My mommy just bought me a really great toy! It's a really fun "punching bag" that sticks to the floor on a wiggly stick, and it has a bright blue ball with a bell and something that smells really yummy inside it! I love to pounce on it and roll all over it, and my legs are getting nice and strong from standing up and punching it over and over again! I love this toy and I love my mommy for buying it for me!
My Siamese is the most vocal feline I have ever known. If she wants attention she will howl everytime I answer the telephone. This act usually results in the person on the other end of the line asking what the creature is, or in some cases mistaking it for the wail of a baby. Some people cannot believe that it is a Siamese cat, how many ignorant people are there left in the world? I pity those that have never known or owned a Siamese. Viva world domination.
When we were moving from Misawa, Japan back to Texas one winter, the moving people left our door open for a long time in order to take away the furniture. When they were done, we discovered that our Seal point, Sammy, had mysteriously disappeared! A frantic search revealed no traces, and we stared dubiously out at the thick snow and swirling wind. My mom sent my older brother and I out into the cold, bundled up stiffly, to hunt. Hours later, we returned cold and numb, the tears welling out of our eyes as we explained the futility of the search. Going into the bathroom to wash our faces, imagine our surprise to see Sammy crouched behind the toilet, where he had been hiding from the movers!! It took us awhile to laugh, but it was a precious moment as I kissed his soft fur.
I own 5 Siamese Cats, 1 boy (Tommy) & 4 girls (Mocha, Su-su, Kopi & Baby). All of them love playing with plastic bags and scraps of papers they can get their paws on. How I wish they liked bathing! I have to enlist the help of my family every time I bath them. Big sis Mocha loves licking water off the bathroom floor. Su-su eats all the time. Kopi absolutely loves strangers and sits in front of the door all day. Baby's a loner and she has moods. Tommy the youngest is very noisy; he'll meow at you until you stroke him. They create lotsa mess for me to clean up but what would I do without all my darlings?
Abigail (Abby) Hello, my name is Abby. I am a tiny little female Appleheaded Siamese Kitten! I just love to be held. My owner never lets me down! At night I sleep in my owner's bed, and I chew on the tip of my tail. It reminds me of when I was still nursing from my mommy! Everyone always says," Oh, that Abby is so adorable!". So, you'd like me too!

I'm a 3 month old seal point. My human didn't know what she was in for when she got me- I'm her first Siamese and I let her know it every chance I get! My favorite activities are decorating the apartment with toilet paper, fetching toys and bras, chasing dogs, and perching on top of a shoulder. I'm thoroughly lovable and don't know how my human ever got along without me!
Angel monster, I have a Lynx Point named Angel. She insists on biting eveything, I have all the teeth marks to prove it. She likes me to pick her up after I.orge home from work, and carry her around on my shoulder, and pet her. If I don't pick her up right away, she will meow loudly until I pick her up. She loves to fetch things, feathered toys, and a rabbit fur covered mouse. Her markings are quite unique, as she has seal colored stripes on her face and legs, as well as rings on her tail. She is a beautiful animal, my little biting, Angel monster kitty.
My little baby Seal Point's true name is Oliver, but his personality has led to inumerable nicknames: Prowley, Frowsey, Monkey-ver, etc... More personality than I can handle sometimes. On the positive, he always cheers me up, is always ready to study whatever I'm doing, greets me and allows me to cuddle in any contorted position, etc. On the other side, he gives me NO peace! Won't leave me alone for THIRTY SECONDS! His newest habit? Knocking things over. I mean EVERYTHING. Plants, Halogen lamps (the tall ones, OUCH), books, you name it. He just wraps his front paws around things when he thinks I'm ignoring him, and pulls it down with a deft tug. Kitty Judo technique, no doubt. After he knocks down five or six objects, he gets my undevoted attention. The problem is that he's too damn cute to punish! I'm lazily building a web page for him at Still in progress.
I am a Seal Point Siamese named Candy who controls the family household. One day when they were preparing to go on holidays, I had the unfortunate mishap of getting my tail latched in the door as it blew shut with great gusto. Oh the pain & what a mess! A trip to the vet & many stitches later, I returned home to be showered with much extra love & affection. They even took me on holidays to the beach with them. Wow what a time I had in their lovely unit on the 4th floor! My tail did take some time to heal but it is now almost as good as new, although a bit speckely in the middle. Did I look a trick when the hair on the middle half of my tail was shaved, especially when I got a fright & my tail puffed up both ends with a flat stretch in the middle. I could have been mistaken for a poodle. I still get all the love & attention I deserve & have full rights to the run of the house day & night. What a life! They are sure I have inbuilt radar as I can sense when my 'Mum' or 'sister' (those humans who love me) place their bottom anywhere near the lounge. I also don't mind getting under the doona cover these cool balmy nights when "Mum" goes off to bed. I wouldn't trade this life for even 'tuna.'
Sophie and Gizmo..It is truly remarkable how Siamese attach themselves to one person. I owned the ultimate Mese for about 10 years. Her name was Sophie. She was a beautiful Sealpoint who was killed by a dog. Needless to say, I do not care for dogs much. She was crazy about me. As soon as she could hear my car.orging, my husband claims she started meowing like crazy and looking out the door for me. Then she followed me around until I picked her up and put her over my shoulder. She was the best. Now, my husband has his own ultimate Mese. Her name is Gizmo. She was abandoned as a kitten and given to us by a co-worker. She looks at him like she's in love. She gets on him every chance she gets. I should have known this was going to be his cat. The first night we had her she was sleeping on the screened porch. When he saw her, he exclaimed "she's too small to sleep out there!!". Need I say more????
My cat's name is Cleo. One time my dad was teasing the cat in the kitchen, and my cat ran and sprung up on the couch and landed on the table and ran out the door, and we didn't see her for 2 days! I can't begin to tell you about any more funny stories because my cat is so funny! If you have a funny cat please write me!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hello, my name is Rascal and I'm five years old. I love to run and scamper about and play hide and seek with my "human". I do the hiding and she comes after me. But she cheats. She tricks me into thinking its dinner time by shaking my food can. I never seem to learn as I always.orge running. As you can see by the picture (page 7 Siamese photos), I don't miss too many meals. At last weigh in I was 13 pounds. I'm an indoor cat -- not by choice mind you but it's okay. I still have my opportunities to go out, even if it is on a leash. She doesn't trust me. She has even called me "Houdini". Where we used to live I was pretty good at sneaking out but she was always right there behind me to stop me in my tracks. I figured out how to turn the thumb bolt dead bolt, and push the door open. Then she went and got one of those chain locks with an alarm in it run on batteries to put on the door thinking that would stop me. WRONG! I figured that out too. I learned that if I played with it long enough it made the batteries run down and I could get the chain off without her knowing it. I did that twice and got out -- but as LUCK would have it, she was right there to get me. Foiled again. She finally got smart and put one of those confounded screen door latches on up out of my reach. That stopped me from going out ALONE! Now where we live she has the GOOD dead bolts you have to use a key with. I'm no locksmith and haven't learned how to pick a lock. These claws don't do the trick. Anyone got any good suggestions!?! Just kidding! I've got it good here and I know it. I spend most of my time sitting on a pillow on top of my human's sewing machine cabinet in the sun looking out the window watching the lizards on the window sill. She takes me traveling with her every summer to Memphis. I'll have to tell you another time about my first trip when I was only 4 months old. I think this is enough for now. Rascal
We have a Bluepoint Siamese named Sheba age 20 and a half- Siamese/Calico named Tamara. age11. Sheba and Tamara both vocalize a lot. Sheba is diabetic and arthritic. She can't jump up anymore, so when she wants to be picked up she bellows and brays loudly like a foghorn-even at 2 a.m. Tamara sings do-do,do-fa, and when she is reprimanded, she whines like a little bratty kid. She also argues with you incessantly. She also can say "harro" and "uh-uh" but not consistently. Sheba brays, bellows and snores when asleep. She's pretty infirm, but the smell of good barbecue always perks her up.
Thank you for your labour of love. I am a professional writer, owned by cats since I was 30 years old and moved to the (then) country in Encinitas, California. Feral cats promtly took me over and I have been a "cat slave" ever since. The rascals mothers brought me the kittens when they could not feed them any more, for whatever reason. Those little balls of fur had a magic of their own and.orgpletely fascinated me. Before I could react (don't we all?) I had 27 cats. I was a trustee of the Humane Society of Rancho Santa Fe and a temporary Vet when the town one was on vacation. I have done house calls on constipated champion chinchillas, delivered colts and injected peritoneal Calcium in hyperventilating furry mothers. What is funny is that I am a medical doctor. (20 years at Scripps, La Jolla) Those were other times, without the fear for lawyers and the overwhelming greed for things. Now retired in the Palm Springs area, still have to deal with feral cats. I have 4, and they need 10 grains of phenobarb and the scalpel...isn't that a shame and a betrayal? But there is no better solution. In my children stories all are "animal persons" with bilateral symmetry like we have, and the dignity of a soul created by the Supreme Being. I am sure, we people, do not have a better standing than cats in the general order of creation. There is a lot in Cat that is God. Respectful greetings from Fred Raul Gualda M.D.
We have a crazy 1 year old cat named Garf (a.k.a. Garfield) who is the only cat we know who doesn't always land on his feet. One day Garf was playing with his mouse (which unfortunatly he loves to place in our beds) and was going crazy. The whole family, plus my friend, Michelle, were peacefully eating at our lovely dinner table when out from nowhere came Garf sliding on the dinner table and ran up the side of Michelle's chair faster than you could say crazy cat! But the funniest part of my story is that my crazy half-brained cat (but I still love him!) landed in our favorite woven basket, on his back and got himself stuck! To prove my point that he is the craziest cat alive he never ever learned his lesson and probably never will!!
My littermate sister, Sashi, and I have finally put it all together! My name is Winter. I am a chocolate point and I take pride in my meticulously clean body. My sister is a seal point and I constantly have to give her baths! We finally figured out that our humans brought a new thing into the house and it's a cat! But not a meezer, like us. This kitten won't leave us alone, and poor Sashi is hissing and growling herself hoarse trying to get her to back off! I can take her fine. Our humans call this kitten Zoey, and they say she is a Bengal and we need to be nice to her! Ha! If she thinks she can just.orge into our house and try to follow us around, eat from our bowl, use our box, well...she is going to learn the hard way that she's mistaken! Too bad human clipped my nails..She's very soft, I will give her that, but I can't bear to bathe her (yet...although she gets more interesting smelling every day), but Sashi and I have decided to at least give her a chance. She chases us all over, and we chase her too. Occasionally we'll let her play with our toys, but not if we want to play with them. And for now, the top of the cat hotel is definitely off-limits. That's for meezers only. So far, I think I'm doing better with little Zoey. Sashi is still working on it. But we're definitely interested. Just when we thought we had trained our humans, they go and bring Zoey they're talking about something called a baby??
Mikker (Jordan's Seal Wishbone), an applehead which my parents had, once stalked, caught and killed a black-hooded seagull. We were sure he would lose the battle - the bird was almost twice his size! But he managed it, dragged the carcass to the kitchen door, and collapsed in my mother's bed and slept 10 hours. This happened in 1976, and Mikker lived to almost 19. Zigzag (Hamilton's Blue Claudius) loved bones. He once stole the bone from a leg of lamb and carried (not dragged..) it upstairs in the hope of not being found out. Etcetera (Hamilton's Chocolate Etcetera) is too young to have any real stories to tell - except that he's very adept at catching flies. Just too bad they won't fly again once they're caught!
Our family has a beautiful Seal Point named Milo. Milo's Birthday is always on July 3rd, and always the day our town celebrates Independance Day, so we consider Milo a special cat. On her birthday every year we invite our friends over for a cook out and to sing Happy Birthday to Milo. Unfortunately, Milo and our other Siamese, Garfield, don't enjoy the fireworks as much as we do. It still is always Milo's special day!!
My little "Boken" is a beautiful tortiose shell meezer-mix. I got her from the pound in Berkeley (CA), so her breed is unconfirmed, but her shape and behavior show her ancestry! Mokey is the greatest. She was born around July '95, and now weighs 15 pounds--without being fat! She has "lima bean" eyes and a wacky personality. She loves to play in the toilet, as I hear many meezers do (for some reason, the rest of the family can't appreciate how cute those little wet paw- prints are), drinks from the fountain in the backyard, and splashes in mugs and the dogs' water bowl. Mokey also eats her little brother's puppy food, and in exchange, catches moths for him to eat. Boken-beanie (another nickname) has too many cute habits to describe, so I'll just share her morning routine. Most mornings, she wakes up before me, and demands to be let out of my room (she's not allowed access to the pet door at night because of cars and raccoons). If I don't respond to meows and scrabbling at the door, she begins knocking things off my desk and headboard, then proceeds to "chomp" any exposed limbs. She grabs, for example, a wrist and bites hard enough to annoy, but not break the skin, occasionally giving a little shake. (To any impatient meezers, Mokey r.orgmends spacing chomps a few minutes apart, so that the human has juuuust drifted back to sleep. Ankle chomps at mealtime also help speed lazy meal-tickets along.) Once up, the routine is that Mokey jumps up on the bathroom sink, which I fill for her to drink from--the fresher the better. -Christine =^^=
We have five Siamese Cats. They each have a different personality. The reason we have five is that we started breeding and I couldn't beare to give the kittens away, so we had all our cats neutered or spayed. JoyKin is the boss cat. If he wants another cat's place he just walks up and gives his"stare" and the other defers to him. "Indy" (Indiana Jones) is the youngest. He was named for his sill habit of looking for trouble and getting himself into a jam. He also loves to skid around the house, especially when he hits the hardwood floors, which fits in with his call name "Indy". He still looks for trouble and my husband says this should be his name "trouble". More on the others later.
Our "Bibi" and "Mischa" are current SICC members (lovely Blue-boys with the MOST startling sapphire eyes), but this story is about the Grande Dame T.S. Eliot, our late (much missed) Seal point. She was regal, exceedingly beautiful--very silky dark points, pale blue eyes-- and not a bit intimidated by neighbors' dogs. One crass pooch, Juanita, a Great Dane, chose NOT to ignore Miss T, like the other (smarter) dogs did. Juanita barked in T.'s face, until T., sore offended, could take it no more. Imagine a Seal Point Siamese riding a Great Dane cross the yard!! Dog yelping, cat with ears flat back and every claw inserted. T. then hopped off and non-chalantly resumed her spot on the back step. NO dog ever bothered her after this!
Hi! My name is Daisy and I'm a very curious cat. One day it got cold in the house and there was no sun in the house to be found. Then I snooped around the closet. It was pretty warm in there! So I went inside. I was about to get to the end of the closet ( because that was the warmest spot) All of the sudden I got my nails caught on this long coat! I tugged and tugged. Then, with all my force I pulled and the coat fell on me! I meowed my highest I could meow! Luckliy my human came. I don't go into that closet anymore! ( Even if it is warm!)
The Gift of Lady Thai Hints of Fall were in the air, even in the bustling.orgmunity of Crawfordsville, Indiana. Cornfields were almost ready for harvesting. A few scattered groups of Canadian geese were speckling the skies with thin, wobbly v's pointing south. Four times a day for months I drove past Paw Purrfect Pets. I'd stopped in there a few times to purchase aquarium supplies, peruse the fish tanks, make faces at the rodent cages, and even cock my head to mirror the pet birds' reaction when I stopped to say "hello". Sometimes the pet shop had puppies; on a few occassions, there were even mixed breed kittens, tiny furred bodies tumbling in play or strung out in a contorted jumble of relaxed sleep. Why did I stop in that particular day? What ever possessed me to ask the ridiculous question? There was absolutely no reason to think Paw Purrfect personnel would respond with a "yes". "Have you ever thought of selling Siamese kittens?" I couldn't believe I asked that question. But it was out of my mouth before my brain kicked in. The shop clerk, Alice*, looked at me strangely. "Yes," she finally responded, "We just received two in today, but they're sick. We don't know what's wrong with them, or if they'll live." Maybe it was the look on my face. Maybe it was my breathless plea to see the kittens. Maybe Alice knew it would be easier to say yes than to argue. Whatever. She led me to the back storeroom where a huge steel cage housed two tiny forms. One kitten looked up at me, the second one didn't move. Both kittens looked to be too young, perhaps not even weaned. Their fur was still white, the "points" dim shadows, claw tips showing that they hadn't yet learned how to retract their claws. The bell clanged on the pet store door. Alice gave me a long look, then left to wait on the new customers. I couldn't help myself. I opened the cage door and gently scooped the seemingly lifeless kitten into my hands. A quick check said this scrawny little bundle was alive, but she was cool in my hands. I cuddled her against my neck, softly crooning, telling her how precious she was, so pretty, such a baby, that she'd be okay. A cool moist nose nudged against my skin as she snuggled closer. She grew warmer and pushed herself up higher, nestling on my shoulder underneath my hair. Yes, I lost track of time. Maybe I was there 10 minutes, maybe it was 30. Alice returned, gave me the "look", and I returned the kitten to the cage. "Are the kittens for sale?" I had to ask. "If they check out okay, we'll put them up front." Yeah, Alice, I knew 'check out okay' meant if they lived. I stopped by Paw Purrfect several times over the next two weeks. Alice must have accepted my presence. I didn't even have to ask to go see the kittens. The back storeroom was private, and if Alice ever saw me opening the cage, she never mentioned it. In return, I tried not to outlive my we.orge, limiting visits to 10-15 minutes. The little female's littermate was a male, and he seemed to rebound more quickly. She was getting stronger, too, but still remained wobbly, clearly the weaker of the two. Alice had put the kittens on antibiotics and vitamins, but would never admit what made the kittens sick. I still think they were taken from their mother at too young an age. The day came when I walked into the pet store and found the two kittens on display. That was a hard day. They had both survived. What joy! But now they were for sale. And I knew what my husband would say. "No more damn cats!" I'd heard it often enough. I already had two cats, an 18-pound pussycat of mixed heritage named Friday, and her royal highness, Miss Purrity, a CFA registered sealpoint Siamese. I really hadn't planned on adding another. Besides, I knew it wouldn't fly, not with my husband's attitude. I'd already tested it. A few summers before, my son and I had attended a picnic put on by my employer. The setting was beautiful, on the banks of Sugar Creek, a wide rushing creek of some fame for its national canoe races held every Spring, and for the many canoe rental places catering to tourists. There were several other boys there my son's age, and he was having fun. Several times, people in canoes drifted past and yelled jokingly up at us to throw them some food. Then one canoe passed and the people yelled something not so funny. "Hey, is that your cat in the creek?" All I heard was "cat", and glanced up to see my son racing toward the creek bank, the other boys chasing right after him. Cat? Wild cat? Cat fight? I screamed at my son to stop, but he'd already disappeared over the edge of the bank. I scrambled after him. By the time I could see where he'd lept down a 4-foot bank into shallow water, he was holding a very small and very wet yellow tiger kitten. We found out later two more kittens were found drowned. "Look, Mom," my son grinned, 'I got a Creekle." Creekle enjoyed the picnic immensely. Someone found a towel to dry him off. Others kept offering him bits of fried chicken, ham, and hot dogs. Of course, my son and I took Creekle home with us. "No more damned cats." My husband would not budge. Thankfully, my daughter knew someone who'd give Creekle a good home. Years later, I stood in the front door of Paw Purrfect, facing the display cage housing the two larger, much healthier Siamese kittens. I should have walked back out the door and never returned. But I couldn't. The female kitten had seen me, and her face was pressed against the bars, her eyes wide. She was waiting for me to pick her up. I knew it. Alice shrugged at me. I walked to the cage, lifted the latch, and gathered the female kitten into my arms. Her purr motor engaged at once, and she playfully chewed on my finger or batted at a strand of my hair. Swallowing past the painful lump in my throat, I returned her to the cage and went home. God help me, I went back to Paw Purrfect again... and again. One day, the male kitten was gone. Some lucky person had taken him home. The little female greeted me as soon as I walked in the front door, with an almost human cry of joy. She was pushing against the door of the cage, impatient to be out of there and into my arms. We played for a while, me fighting tears. Oh, yes, I wanted her to have a good home... but I loved her so much. She loved me back even more so, with loud and wild abandon, with total trust in her eyes. I put her back into the cage finally. She squalled. She reached out with her front paw to catch at my sleeve. She pressed her body against the bars as she wailed and waved her forepaw. If ever a cat could cry tears, she was weeping them now. I ran out of the store, feeling like I'd just abandoned my own child. "Please," I begged my husband that night, "please.orge see her. She can be my Christmas present (a few months early), birthday, anything ever again. She is so special, so loving. Please, please.orge see her with me. I'll prove to you how she feels about me.!" "No more damned cats." He wouldn't even look at me. "I told you before, one more cat and I am out of here... your choice." His.orgment kept me quiet for maybe a day. Then I started in on him again. More to shut me up than anything, he finally agreed after less than a week to go see the kitten. Well, he was probably also getting tired of me.orging home after work every day in tears - I was still stopping at Paw Purrfect and seeing "my" kitten. I don't think he could believe it. He didn't feel cats had much personality. Oh, sure, he'd grudgingly acknowledge, Miss Purrity played "fetch" better than the dog, but neither she nor Friday would have much to do with my husband. To see the kitten's reaction when I walked into the pet shop, to hear her cries, see her paw beseeching me to.orge back... my husband may have been (still is) a cruel man in many ways, but he couldn't ignore the kitten. Nor was he exactly crazy about me blubbering openly in public. "If you want the damned thing so much, get her." He added a few more expletives, but I'm not going to quote him. I'd left my purse at home, so he wound up buying her. I was too busy grabbing her out of the cage anyway, telling her she was.orging home with me. I couldn't stop crying, and she was crying right back, sensing something major had happened, but not sure what. And that's how Thai came into my life. She took over from the day she met Friday and Miss Purrity. "After all," I'm sure she said to herself, "I am clearly Mom's favorite, so I must be the boss!". She grew from Thai-Thai to Lady Thai, changing from a rascally, fiesty, wall- climbing kitten to a soft-spoken, gentle creature who never strayed far from me no matter what I was doing. Sometimes she forget she was a lady... like the time she figured out how to unstrap the lid from the hamster cage in my son's room. When we started finding hamsters everywhere, my son and I bolted to his room. There sat Lady Thai, her backs legs and butt wedged into the tinry square opening of the cage. She looked quite proud of herself. She also learned to fetch, ultimately humiliating the royal Miss Purrity by being faster. "Bah!" I could hear Miss Purrity's thoughts, "I pose far more prettily anyway!" Lady Thai went one better, though, developing the hilarious trick of doing somersaults. She'd walk up to me, rub her cheek along my hand, then tuck her nose in between her forepaws, and .orgplete a perfect forward tumble. I swear she grinned up at me as she lay on her back. Lady Thai even charmed the dog. She and Katie (an Australian Shepard) became best buddies, rolling around the floor in play, and chasing each other up and down the stairs in a wacky game of "tag". But Thai-Thai never stopped being my best friend, my.orgfort, my shadow. If I wasn't around, I knew she'd put up with other people, accept food they offered, the pats and rubs of strangers' hands. But if I walked in the back door, everything else - everyone else - around her seemed to grow invisible. Then it was just my Lady Thai and me. I don't know how many people get to have this special bond with a pet in their liftime. It is a gift, especially from a cat, an animal considered by many to be notorious for their "aloof" nature, their "mean" temper. I know I have been blessed. The story of how Lady Thai was lost to me has been told all over the world. I really don't want to bring it up again. It still hurts too much. Lady Thai, please be happy. *Alice is a ficticous name.
We recently took our Siamese, KoKoMo, on a car trip to the family beach house. He has a Sherpa bag to travel in, but he highly prefers to sit in someone's lap during the ride. He travels surprisingly well, and he will quietly sleep in someone's lap. In order to train him to stay in his Sherpa bag for an airplane trip that we are taking later on in the summer, we decided that it would be best if we kept him in the bag for the trip. The first couple of minutes were okay, and he didn't cry. All of a sudden, I saw one of his claws undoing the zipper... he unzipped it all the way by himself and escaped! After I put him back in the bag (with the zippers secured) I heard this loud ripping sound...he was eating his way out of the Sherpa bag!!! Since the bag was destroyed, we had no choice but to let him roam the car free again. He promptly made himself.orgfortable by curling up in my father's lap and fell asleep...purring.
Well I have a Seal Point named CoCo...she will be 2 years old this February...she is a very smart cat, but not too friendly! Well I am going to tell you about something she did that was so neat. Well one day, a while back, CoCo was in my parent's bedroom and we were in the kitchen. We were in there talking, when we heard a loud noise. It sounded like an instrument, but we didn't know where it was.orging from. So we ignored it and continued talking. Then we heard it again and this time we decided to investigate. We walked towards my parent's room and we heard the noise again. It was a guitar. So we quietly peaked in, thinking it was my little sister playing, but to our suprise it was Coco! She was plucking the guitar strings with her teeth! It was so funny! Of course she didn't make any real music, but still she was playing the guitar with her teeth! Well she has done many crazy and smart things, only one thing, she is very mean! Nobody can touch her or anything! She always bites and scratches. She makes our 3rd Siamese cat. Our previous ones include Kimba, Bambi, and now CoCo. Kimba was a Seal Point also, but Bambi was a Choco. Point. CoCo is our prettiest one though. She is very sleek and shiney. She is dark and a female (all our siamese have been female). She has beautiful points too! I plan on getting a pic soon. Out of all of our Siamese, Bambi was the nicest one. We had her for 9 almost 10 years, then she caught feline lukemia and died. I miss her very much. Well that is all I have to say about my Siamese Cats for now. If you have suggestions on how to make your Siamese Cat touchable, please e-mail me! Thanks!!! Email:
Hello to all! My name is Mei-Li of the Lotus. My human calls me Mei-Li for short. I have a funny story to share, and some Siamese folklore. Well here is the story! Yesterday, I was reading the biography of Morris the cat. There was a special section of the book devoted to letters that adoring kitties sent him. Yes! There WAS one from a Siamese! (Although this Siamese had his nationality mixed up!) The letter read: Honourable Morris Pussycat: Please to excuse expression of great joy. You are we.orged to my eyes as a yellow chrysanthemum in full bloom is to a thirsty bumblebee. Permit me to introduce self. I am humble Japanese Geisha Pussycat, but have, how you say, big yen for you. . . You are we.orged to my teahouse anytime. Bon Appetit and sayonara, Bootsie of North Miami,Florida. If you are the clever cat that wrote this, would you please E-Mail my human? Now, for the folklore: Did you know that Siamese cats are said to have a special blessing from Buddha? He also is said to protect us from danger. These blessings are bestowed upon our humans,too. Also, Siamese cats are good luck. I wear a silver Buddha charm on my collar, and my daddy's name was Buddha Baby. Well, I hope you enjoyed these, and I will be organizing a tour to the homeland really soon! If you want to.orge along too, be sure to let me know so that I can reserve you a room at the Bangkok Ritz!

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