Hello out there. Let me introduce myself. I'm Casey, a big handsome guy. That's not being immodest on my part because my servants tell me I'm handsome all the time. Sometimes my maid calls me a pretty boy. I'm not wild about that, but I put up with it because good help is so hard to find nowadays. Yes, I am a wealthy cat who has servants. They feed me, keep me safe and see that I get to my appointments on time. They're really quite handy to have around. Now and then they annoy me, though. They like to sleep on my queen size bed and plop down on my furniture. But I'm a generous fellow. I mostly let them share the space with me.

I'm a purrfect, (pardon the pun, sometimes I can't help myself Oh, yes, where was I?) example of a rags to riches story. You see, I was born on the streets. I don't know who my father was and I can't remember my mother. (I know there's a tear in your eye. I'll wait until you grab a tissue.) The story goes that I was rescued by a kind person who took me to her home. Actually, I deigned to go along because I was hungry and she looked well-fed, so I assumed she would share her bounty with me.

She had a lovely home and she did feed me, but imagine my chagrin when she put me in the basement with twenty-four other cats and expected me not to protest. Well, I did protest! And quite loudly, I might add. Then she added insult to injury by naming me Jake. I mean really. King, or Emperor, or Potentate would have been more appropriate and suited my regal bearing much better.

I was kept imprisoned in that basement for a few weeks. In all honesty, it was warm and dry. I got three squares a day and some of the other inmates were amusing. Imagine my horror, the day I was taken to a veterinarian and had to undergo the most humiliating procedure of my young life. Enough said about that. The fur on the ridge of my back is standing straight up just thinking about it.

Another few weeks went by and although I furiously plotted a way to escape, I was at a loss to figure out how to do it. Subconsciously, I probably didn't want to run away. Where would I go and how would I eat? I am rather pragmatic that way. One day I was loaded into a small cage. That, too, could have diminished my dignity if I'd allowed it. I was taken in the car along with some of the other prisoners to a bustling place called a store in what she called a strip mall. Before I was properly put on display, I heard a man and a woman say, "We're the ones who called you about the orange and white kitten you have for adoption."

At that time in my naive youth, I didn't know the definition of adoption. But let me tell you, my ears perked up. I did know my colors and I was the only one that fit that description. I remember wondering what inglorious plan was being hatched for me now. My caretaker grabbed the handle on my cage from the back near the wall and swung it aloft with me in it. The vertigo I experienced was a bit upsetting, but I had to stay alert to see what was going to befall me now and how it would affect my future. I just knew it wouldn't be good.

Secretly I unsheathed my claws in case I had to fight for my life. I looked out through the bars to see who was deciding my fate. I couldn't help myself. I'm an inquisitive guy. Curiosity has landed me in some pickles, I must admit. I could tell you some fur-raising tales, but that must be saved for another time.

Anyway, as I peered out, there were two sets of eyes peering back at me. One set blue, the other brown. The more I examined their faces, the more I concluded they were rather bland, not to mention benign looking. When they stuck their fingers through the holes in the cage, I turned on the charm. I rubbed the top of my head (it's particularly soft and furry) against their probing digits. Charm is one of my attributes. They said, "Ahhh", in unison. I swear they did. Then they said, "He's the one we want. We'll take him."

The lady who'd taken care of me seemed so pleased to know I was leaving her. I was a bit miffed, but I acted like I couldn't care less. So, they transferred me to another cage, but before they latched the door, my caregiver kissed me goodbye. On the lips! It startled me somewhat. I mean she'd never done that before. Maybe she wasn't so happy to see me go after all. Money exchanged hands and we were off.

The new people in my life put me on the back seat of their car and I must say the woman kept looking back at me and telling me about the toys that were waiting at home. She even stuck a tiny toy mouse through the holes in the cage. I'd had them before so they were familiar to me and at times I'd found them handy to wile away a few minutes. To show my appreciation (I do know proper etiquette) I placed my paw on the mouse. She smiled and told the driver what I'd done.

That's how it all began. I have many more tales to tell you, but now I must sleep. I call it getting my beauty rest and every time I pass a mirror I can tell it's working.

One additional note before I retire for a few hours. Without boasting, I must confess that I'm an erudite cat and understand the ways of the world. I would be happy to share my vast knowledge about a myriad of subjects if you'd care to ask a question.

Oh, I beg your pardon, I just yawned. I hope we can talk again soon.............................Casey