Rbi, the Accomplice

Oh yes, I forgot to tell you how they got out. We are getting ready to remodel out house, because of that we have not made some repairs because after the remodel, they will not be needed. The side door is one of these. It doesn't latch unless you push hard and double check it. One of us, my hubby I'm sure, didn't do this. I found the door wide open. Amber weighs around seven pounds, too small to bounce the door open. Rbi, on the other hand, is around twelve pounds, more than enough weight to open the door...

She Returns...

When I saw Rbi, I knew Amber was long gone. We don't know where she goes or what she does, we just know she disappears. It started with the ABC cat, as my friend calls her, taking a very long time to come when she was called in for the night. Then she started staying out all night. We can't have that! She's not supposed to leave the back yard...

Well, she came back around 11:00pm that same night. Not because we called or she realized she was being bad and needed to get her furry butt back inside, we figure she returned because she got scared! At around 11:00 we heard a cat crying, meowing piteously. We knew it wasn't Amber, she has almost no voice, so her meows are hard to hear. We recognized the moans as Ziggy's cries. Ziggy is an all black, love-of-a-cat who is owned by someone in the neighborhood but allowed to run free. He adores my girls who dislike him immensely. He will sit outside our bedroom window between the hours of 11:oopm and 4:00am to beg for them to come out. Very annoying...

Anyway, Ziggy started his lamentation and, all of a sudden, Amboseli appeared at the door, ready to come in. What can I say, at least I got a good night's sleep!

Defined - Amber Bad Cat

I thought I'd have some time to slowly build the story of Amber Bad Cat, but she has done, once again, that which has earned her the name of Bad Cat. She has escaped into the night and refused to come when called. Once again, I will spend a sleepless night, worrying about her while she is out carousing the neighborhood. When I do fall asleep, Rbi will jump off the bed at every little noise, waking me while she looks for her best friend.

Why don't I lock her inside at night, say you? I do. Promptly at 7:00pm every night, we make sure Amber Bad Cat and Rbi are inside. Tonight, they pushed open the side door and escaped... Rbi snuck into the bonus room in the back yard to be with us without us seeing her. At 9:30, she stretched and wandered out, wondering when we were going to bed. That's when we realized that Amber must be long gone...

Then Came Rbi...

Amber was probably very happy being an only cat. Heaven knows my husband was happy having just one animal. Me? I like having two cats, they can take care of each other when you go away for the weekend and such. But I agreed to give having one cat a try...

I need to back up a little here. Before Amboseli, we had Malarky and 'Quinn. Malarky was a beautiful blue point Birman, a wonderful breed of cat whose long hair does not mat. Malarky was a love of a personality until he got sick. He had gorgeous blue eyes and the tips of his feet, like all Birmans, were white.

'Quinn is short for Harlequin. Quinnie was a short haired Tortoiseshell, and, like all Torties, she was talkative and into everything. We called her the supervisor because we couldn't do anything without her being involved. Like a Harlequinn Jester, who wears one color on one side of his body and a different color on the other side, 'Quinn's fur was orange on one side and black on the other. She lived to be twenty-two years old.

I was okay with just having one cat. I missed walking into a room and seeing two cats curled up together, but I promised my husband I would not look for another cat. In the back of my mind, I fully expected another cat to find me. And she did. I went into a pet store I never go to to buy some bird seed and found a cage full of feral kittens. There, in the middle like she owned the cage, was a Tortie with little white paws. Here was a kitty who was channeling both 'Quinnie and Malarky! The sales clerk told me lots of people wanted her, and that she was still making up her mind who would get her. Of course, when I told her how this little kitty embodied both of my loved cats, she was mine! Even hubby couldn't say no when I told him about her fur color and the fact she had little white feet. Being a huge baseball fan, I named her Rbi.

Is there anything cuter than a kitten?

Amber Good Kitty

Amber didn't start out as Amber Bad Cat, she became it. She started out a tiny, scared kitty because our current cat hated her. We did everything one is supposed to do to introduce cats to each other expecting them to get along, but he hated her with a passion and would attack her if he got the chance. We found out later that he had stomach cancer and was is pain. She never had a chance with him.

Because of this, she slept under the covers with us while he slept on top, ate at separate times, and did her best to stay out of his way. She grew up to be a beautiful girl.

Her picture, by the way, was taken by a wonderful pet photo- grapher, Jim Rush. You can reach him at jblr7@sbcglobal.net .

Silly me, I wanted an Abyssinian...

The beginning...

Everyone told me Abbies were friendly, people-oriented, loving cats, but they were not lap cats. Sounded good to me. So January, 2002, the search began. Have you tried finding a kitten in the winter? Doesn't happen!

But I found a breeder in High Desert who bred Abbies in an old silver trailer that was divided into three sections; the bachelor pad, the Maternity Wing, and the Kitten Koop. That should have been my first clue.

My Abyssinian was born in March. When I called and spoke to the breeder, she had two kittens for me to choose between. When we got there, she had a cute story about how my kitten, the only one left kitten, hid in the corner when the other couple came so she knew that one belonged to us. Sure enough, there my kitty was, face in the corner, totally ignoring us. Clue number two.

Of course, that wouldn't stop me, and we bought her anyway. We popped her into a travel case and headed home. We named her Amboseli after our favorite national park in Kenya (a truly perfect vacation we took) and called her Amber for short. I was sure the poor little thing would be happier on my lap, and I took her out to hold her.

Then the Abbies-don't-like-to-sit-on-your-lap part kicked in. She crawled up my front, over my shoulder, mewed at the passing scenery, and disappeared under my car seat. Even pulled over we couldn't get her out without opening the door to the car. Yeah, yeah, clue number three...

Second morning...clue #4