My name is oreo and I'm a cat.  A very cool cat.  Well... maybe not so cool as I could be, because my people demand I stay inside with them.  They are just a bit needy at times and it's my job to make sure they take care of themselves.  They are my responsibility, it's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it, ya know? 

I sleep a lot... yeah, I love to sleep.  Sleep is as close to Godliness as us mere mortal cats can get.  When I sleep, I dream of birdies.  Birdies are my most favorite thing in the world!  I even got my old woman trained to bring them to me on demand.  I walk over to her, nip her heels, and she knows it's time to set out the bird food on the deck by the big windows.  Then the birdies start comin.... whoa, it's so cool.  I lick my lips, my tail starts flickin back-n-forth, and I just can't help but get excited.  I swear, it's all I can do to keep from scaring them off... but I'm cool.  I know one of these days I'll get my chance and  BAM!  those little birdies are MINE!  ALL MINE!!

I have 4 people I take care of.  I can't decide if the teenage boy or the old woman is my favorite.  The boy throws feather balls and bouncy balls for me to chase... so he's real fun.  But the old woman, she is my petting slave.  She knows just how to hold me and mmmm.... the way she strokes my coat is absolute heaven.  I sleep with her every night, I curl up right inside that little semi-circle she makes when she lays on her side.   It's warm, soft, and just purrrrfect.  When it's time to wake her up, I lick her eyebrow... don't ask me why, I just think she likes it. 

Oh well, gotta run now.....  I see birdies.  hehehehehe

Hi!  I'm Sunny and I'm an angel kitty now.  I adopted my family in 1996.  The woman used to get up every morning and go for a 4 mile hike through these trails near her home.  One morning, while she was sitting on the front porch tying her tennis shoes, I came slinking out from under the bushes.  It was instant love.  I could tell she fell hard for me, cause rather than feeling that urge to bolt, I ended up making her my itch scratcher.  Her kids really liked me too, but the man of the house didn't like kitties, that is until he met me. :-) 

I was an outdoor kitty from the very beginning.  Whenever they tried to bring me inside, I would cry and howl like an old lost Tom cat until they would let me back outside again.  So they fixed me up a nice comfy space in the shed behind the house.  The shed had a  hole in the back from the field mices so I would go in and out of the shed on my terms.  I had sleeping blankets in there for when it got cold and when the weather was hot, I slept on one of the decks or in the shade of the bushes in the landscape.  Sometimes the sprinklers would come on and I would get wet, but I kinda liked that too. 

In the mornings when the woman would get up to make her coffee, I would jump up on the back deck railing and peer into the window at her, she would tap on the glass and smile, then the sliding door would open and out came a fresh dish of food and water.  She would sit and pet me the entire time I ate cause she wanted to make sure I ate all of it.  If I left food out on the deck, it might bring mean ol' raccoons or even worse... those smelly skunks up to the house and that wasn't good.

Since I was a stray and refused to be locked in that noisy house, she was faithful about taking me to the vet.  I didn't usually mind, those shots were over with in no time and I knew she didn't want me to get sick from scrapping it up with all the wildlife I'd chase, so I went along with it for her sake.  Eventually, my woman and her husband (who by now had come to consider me a "pretty good pet for a cat") built a new home out in country.  Suddenly, there was nothing but wide open spaces for me chase whatever I wanted.  These were the best years of my life.  I would bring home presents all the time.  I caught snakes, frogs, bunnies, birdies, and even brought a few other little critters home from time to time.   Even though I was so happy, my woman worried about me a great deal.  I didn't have a shed at the new house, so she had got a large dog house (yuck!  I know) which she put under the deck.  She insulated it and had all kinds of soft fluffy pillows and such in there, but she would still scoop me up and bring me in when the weather became bitter.  Eventually I got used to the warmth of living indoors and didn't fight her as much about coming inside. 

In August of 2006, I got really sick.  My woman could tell something was wrong with me.  My fur was coming out really heavily, I was so tired and slow...I didn't even come running when she put out my plate of stinky goodness.  So she took me to the vet and he found I had congestive heart failure.  I must have been older than everyone thought I was.  She told the vet she wasn't ready to let me go, so he tried to drain the fluid from around my heart and lungs.  He couldn't risk putting me under anesthesia to do it because I was so weak....and it hurt so badly, I jerked and he punctured my lung.  I died 5 hours later, out in the country with my family holding me.  It was so sad, everyone was crying, even the man who loved me more than he was ever willing to admit.  They wrapped me in my favorite blanket and buried me with my brush, in my favorite spot down by the woods.  Now I get to chase everything I want without worrying about getting sick.

The woman made me a beautiful stepping stone and inset a photo of me in the stone.  She visits me all the time and I know she can't wait to see me on the other side.  It took me a long time, but I finally convinced her it was okay to adopt another kitty.  At first she didn't want to, she said it hurt too bad to lose her fur baby, but eventually I guided her into a shelter and she found my step brother Oreo.  I am happy for them both.