Seabass’ Diary…Day 167…Not So Fast

December 4, 2017- I crept out of the closet and returned to Simba.

“What are you doing?” Simba whispered, “There are animals in there that need saving!”

“No. There are no animals in the closet you fool!” I said with contempt.

“YES. THERE. ARE!” Simba hissed.

I shook my head and stayed silent for a moment. How was I going to get this through his thick skull?

“There are NO animals in the closet. I’ll prove it to you.”

“You’re going to have to because I’m not leaving until they’re rescued!”

I roll my eyes, “Come with me.”

I lead Simba to the closet one careful step at a time. Fear rips through with back with every sound as the floorboards creak beneath our combined weight. Thoughts of Amelia returning to capture us is enough to make me want to get out of here as fast as we can. There is no way that  I could spend another second with her; she was insane and I know that is a horrible thing to say about a little girl, but a spade is a spade.

“See? Look!” I hiss at Simba, “These are the so-called “animals” you’ve been worried about!” I gesture to the ceiling and point to the various one-piece pyjamas with various animal hoods. I still wasn’t sure how Simba made such a grievous error. Surely he knew the difference between real animals and clothing!

There are a few moments of silence before Simba speaks first, “Wait a second, so this is it? The animals that I thought were trapped in here are just pyjamas?”

“Yes.”

“How could I be so stupid?” Simba moaned.

I wanted to agree with him, that he was reckless and didn’t have his facts straight, and put us in a position of danger, but I couldn’t bring myself to scold him.

“You’re not stupid, I would have probably done the exact same thing…I…do you hear that?” I whisper. There is a faint sound coming from down the hall; it’s meowing.

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The World’s Richest Cats…#1

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April 19, 2017-So #1 on the list is not what you’d expect and maybe some of you won’t be too happy with me, but I believe that first place on the list goes to…

All of the cats that have loving homes. Sure they may not have an inheritance worth millions and they may not have merchandise or be celebrities or have a television show, but what they do have is a family that loves them. They have a warm and comfortable home with the occasional cat treat or toy and once in a while maybe even some catnip. There are pictures of them on the wall or the mantle and the ones who have crossed the rainbow bridge are forever memorialized in a special spot in the yard or in an urn in the china cabinet.

They have a warm and comfortable home with the occasional cat treat or toy and once in a while maybe even some catnip. There are pictures of them on the wall or the mantle and the ones who have crossed the rainbow bridge are forever memorialized in a special spot in the yard or in the china cabinet.

They’ve got people that care about them who are foster parents and those who care about them so much that they’re willing to drop off bags of food or piles of blankets to shelters that house them. People who go out of their way to sponsor their kennel and people who tirelessly raise money to support the homeless, feral, scared, injured cats all over the world.

Maybe cats with loving homes aren’t the world’s richest cats in a monetary or material sense and maybe, WE, their caretakers are the richest ones for having them as our moral and ethical responsibilities. We are the wealthiest above all because we have their love and they have ours.

Thank you to each and every one of you that save lives and make a difference for these animals all over the world. God Bless.

LLB

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New Weekly Feature!…

Hi Furriends,

I’d like to introduce a new weekly feature on The Kitty Cat Clan! We had tons of fun with the Cat of the Week feature, didn’t we? I promise that this will be just as much fun! Starting later today and for the next 3 weeks, I’ll be showing you some pretty important cats throughout history and what their roles were. Buckle up for an exciting, interesting ride!

Stay tuned!

Seabass’ Diary…Day 121…Shaken Not Stirred

September 19, 2016- I could tell that we were moving at a frightening speed. The cages that we were held hostage in slid around as we rounded the sharp turns in the road. “Ok think…think, think, think, think, think…we can’t chew through the metal bars, we can’t bend them or slip between them,” I said as I put my hands on my hips. That was my classic thinking pose and it helped me clear my head more than once before.

“So the only way out is to break the cage into pieces somehow,” I said. I jiggled the lock once more to make sure that it hadn’t magically opened on its own and was disappointed when it hadn’t. “Ok…I have an idea…I think,” Bernard said. “What if we wiggle our cages so that they touch the door, that way when it opens we can throw our weight against it and with any luck we will hit the ground and the crash will break open the cage.”

I was still in my thinking stance. “Ok, that seems like the only option we have right now so let’s do it,” I said. To be honest I wasn’t very confident that it would work but what choice did we have? We were out of options. We inched our cages to the back door of the van and hoped for the best. Whoever opened the doors of the vehicle would not be prepared for us. The van came to a screeching halt and the engine turned off. I held my breath and then said a prayer but what happened next shook us. We didn’t even have time to brace for impact…

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