Kitty, that's my nickname. My father wanted to name me after a favorite aunt, Mary-Katherine Fitzsimmons, known affectionately as "Kitty". She was an old irish spinster who lived here in Vermont. Knowing "Kitty" wasn't a proper name the name Catherine was decided yet I was called Kitty from day one. It's a sweet name, and quite fitting, no not because I sport whiskers and have a tail. Rather it's the demeanor of a cat that I have. I have the spirit of a cat! How could Dad have known?
If life were to be the way I'd like it, I'd wake up in the morning with a good stretch, wash my face, have a little breakfast, wander and find the perfect sunspot to have an early morning nap. Get up an hour or so later, inspect my bowl for anything new and interesting. Wander off upstairs and find the next sunspot and laaaaayyy out and stretch, do a bit of preening and then drift blissfully back off to sleep. Some time later I'd sit up, bathe, wander downstairs for a snack, go outside wander the porch, find a comfy chair, curl up and feign sleep while really listen to the birds and peek out through small slits and make sure the mailman doesn't disturb me. I'd then make a leisurely stroll through the flowers and sidewalk, aimlessly wandering but not too far, dinner isn't that far off. Then I'd make my way back home, acting like I've had such a hard day and indulge in that dinner, a meat and gravy delight...
I then manage to hang about the kitchen in case there's any treats headed my way and to at least make the appearance that I'm interested in being part of the family. Then as evening approaches I would lay claim to ever dust bunny in the house. Once my family had gone off to bed I'd make sure no string was left untouched, I would dust the furniture with my nimble body, I'd chase imaginary mice, honing my skill as a fierce hunter, a tiger. Upon the crash of some object to the floor I'll scurry off, even spin out on a throw rug, so as to not be caught as the culprit. My night antics take on a whole new meaning in the moonlight. Draperies need my attention, I rake them and smooth them, leaving my scent behind so that no other creature dare enter my den.
As dawn approaches I start to wind down, feeling that my duties are now done, time to drift off into a heady doze.....until I hear my breakfast being served once more. Sss...t...re...t....c...hhhh, doze a bit more and then get ready for another exhausting day.