When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even. – Percy Bysshe Shelley
Maggie came to us seven years ago in September. She wore a green flea collar so when I saw her “Halloween Cat” a PT Cruiser to a full stop in the street, I assumed she belonged to someone.
Fur-baby Sitting Maggie
After a week, when there were no claims, my sister said she wanted her. She WAS adorable. Sis named her Maggie. I agreed to keep her until she got settled in
to a new place, then under construction. That took a bit longer than planned, so Maggie and I became friends. I kept my sis in mind as I trained and loved on “The Maggs”, but was secretly glad that I would have visitation rights after she left my care.
Maggie’s Personality
We called Maggie our Facebook Cat because instead of chasing or the usual playtime antics, she liked to “poke” the other cats, then run. Her other kitty attributes are, to name a few:
- She observes us to the point of staring. She is studying you, collecting data for future use. It is both cute and creepy.
- She is busy unless she is sleeping. Climbing, exploring bags, boxes and holes. If you are not at the door to let her in the minute she arrives, she is off on an other adventure.
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Where’s Maggie? Rather than meow, for most things, she growls. She growls at the door until we open it, growls when we pick her up and growls to protect her food. But it is a cute growl. A “hard to take serious” growl.
- She is quiet. In fact, she is so silent, it is almost phantom like. She just appears, then disappears.
She likes to hide. After seven years we have found most of her spots, and can discern a bit of a pattern, yet there are times when she manages to evade our seeking efforts. Outdoors, her coloring is quite effective as a camouflage cover.
- She is not a talker. When she does meow it is tiny, cute, yet demanding. This usually involves food or some kind of protest.
Maggie Goes On An Adventure
The day came when Maggie went to live with my sister and her dog Boomer. They got along well. Each morning, Sis would let Maggie out for her morning romp and then let her back in when she headed to work.
One morning Maggie was not at the door. All of us were concerned and canvased the neighborhood for Maggie. Neighbors reported Maggie sightings, but my sister’s work schedule and Maggie’s had gotten out of sync. “Where’s Maggie?” was the constant question.
A Safe Return
