More on Marley & Me - Feline version

It strikes me that Marley does not necessarily have to be a dog in your life - Marley could also be a hamster, rabbit, horse or even a cat! I live with two cats and they have distinct personalities. Allie, the white female cat is definitely not a Marley. She goes about her business quietly and tries not to be visible - much. She sleeps on the bed, wakes up, stretches and then quietly checks out the rest of the house. She stays as close to walls & furniture (under if possible) as she can so no one (the hyper dog and naughty boy cat) will see her. She might brush up against the leg of a human and give a small meow but that does not mean she wants to be picked up. Just acknowledge her presence.

The other cat in our life is an exact opposite of Allie. Leo wants to be noticed. If we don't notice him, he will do something to attract our attention. At 4 am when we are sleeping, Leo will knock something off the dresser to wake us up. He has taken to sleeping on my feet. But, heaven forbin he would just lay down - No! He has to knead my feet to make a comfortable spot for himself. The Christmas tree was shaking the other day. We do not live in earthquake territory - nope, it was tornadoe Leo trying to climb the middle of the tree.

Leo came to us on a cold winter day - December 17, 2004. We already had a dog and a cat and I had no intention of introducing another animal to our household. My son called me to tell me "A kitten followed me home on the paper route." I instructed him to keep the kitten away from the other animals - just in case he had some foul disease. When I arrived home several hours later, the kitten was sound asleep on my son's lap. "I named her Cleopatra - because she's very demanding," was my son's first words.

"Well, she's not staying!" was my response. I called every shelter in the phone book but there was not room for a tiny kitten anywhere. So, in a moment of weekness I told my son she could stay - until there was room at a shelter. It was too cold to toss the little ball of fur back outside

Monday morning I called the shelters again but the answer was still no room. I called the vet and told them we had a kitten who was not staying but I wanted a well-kitten check up to check for worms or any other disease.

When the vet examined the kitten, she asked us what we named him. "Him???" We thought he was a girl. The vet & my son agreed Cleopatra was not an appropriate name for a little boy. My son named him C. Leo Patrick. My official name for the little 2.8 pounds of fur was (and still is) "Christopher Leonard Patrick You're Not Staying!" But we call him Leo for short

When Leo was four months old, I caught him climbing up the lace curtains. Shortly after that he had his front claws removed. When Leo was six months old, he started showing signs of being a little boy. Shortly after that he had his little nubs chopped off.

It is now four years later. Leo is still living with us. That little ball of fur that "followed" my son home on the paper route (actually my 6'4" son put the kitten in the hood of his sweatshire - that is following, right?) is still living with us. I quit calling the shelters a long time ago. It is a shame because he would make a great pet for someone. In the meantime, he can be our feline version of Marley 'cause at 4 am when things are shoved on the floor, Leo can be the worst cat in the world.