I was 6 months of age and was living on the streets when Mom took me in one very cold day in December of 1997. She tried to find my owners, but had no luck. During the first week living with her I asked to go outside, and against her better judgment she let me out. I think she thought I was going to go home on my own. I never left her front porch and within a few minutes I asked to come back in. She let me back in and I’ve never asked to go out again.
I had a sister named Sunny back then. She passed away several years ago. I really miss her. I’m out numbered by the dogs now. Duke is a pretty good dog. We get along well and respect each others personal space. Charm’s a bit of a goofball but I like him. We’ve been buddies from day one. He gives me kisses regularly and I let him do it!
Daisy has been a pain in my butt for many years now. She has pretty much hated me from our first meeting. Up until recently I have pretty much lived upstairs, and only come down when I know Daisy’s secured in a room. Since Frankie (the other cat in the house) has joined the household, Daisy seems to be changing her opinion about cats. She and I can actually share the same space without there being an altercation. We’re even sharing Mom’s lap now!
Frankie’s a bit of a pest but his one redeeming quality is that he managed to convince Daisy to be nice to me. I’m okay sharing the house with him, but can’t wait for him to grow out of his kitten phase. He’s just too much energy for me.
My kidneys are starting to go down hill. So far I’m in good spirits and still quite active. Mother makes sure I see the doctor regularly and gives me my medicine. I’m going to take a nap now. It was nice chatting with you.
