Hi, my name is Missy. I was born October 5, 2015. Actually, that day is just an estimate the vet made. Nobody is really sure what day I was born because I was born in a house that was under construction. The owner that was working on the house discovered my siblings and me. The owner put an ad in the newspaper that my future parents saw. When Mom and Dad arrived, they met my canine family. Dad called those dogs pit-bulls. The pit-bulls not only protected the empty house while being worked on but they were friendly and loved us kittens.

There were several of us for Mom and Dad to choose from and Dad picked me up first. I was the runt of the litter so I thought surely they wouldn’t want to keep me. But Dad loved that I was the runt so away I went with them. When I got to my new home, I was overwhelmed. It was so big that it would take me years to explore it but I didn’t feel well enough to explore at that time. My eyes weren’t that great and the cat food they gave me made me sick.

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After a few days, Mom and Dad picked me up and took me to an awful, horrible place. I later learned this torture chamber was called the “vet’s office”. When the tech put me on the scale, I weighed just 1 pound 4 ounces. The vet gave my Mom and Dad some cream for my eyes and they took me back home. I was enormously relieved because I was afraid they were just going to leave me at the vet’s for good.
I liked it at home. My dad often played the guitar. He didn’t play well, mind you, but I was his biggest fan.

Dad also let me curl up against his back when the humans were sleeping. Don’t get me wrong; I like curling up with Mom too but Dad gives off more body heat. I stay nice and cozy and warm next to him.
As the days went by, Mom and Dad finally gave me a name of my own. They decided on Missy which is a character on one of their favorite TV shows, “Doctor Who”. I don’t like doctors personally, but the name seemed to suit me.
Mom and dad tried hard to find a food that wouldn’t make me sick. They finally got it right, but then we were faced with a new conundrum. They would fill my bowl and almost immediately it would be empty. They were stumped. If I could see better I might be able to tell them what was going on. As soon as they put my food down and left the room an orange blur would swoosh in and the food would vanish. Luckily, Mom and Dad soon figured out the mystery. They said the magic words, “Maggie No” and the blur left my food alone when Mom and Dad were in the room.
The blur turned out to be a dog named Maggie. She reminded me of the dogs from my birth home but on a smaller scale. I liked the dogs from my first house so I decided to be friends with Maggie too. To this day she is my favorite fur friend. Now Mom and Dad have to put my food off the ground because Maggie will still eat it, but truthfully, I do not mind sharing with her. I do not like sharing with my underlings. I will tell you about them as we go along.

Maggie and I were the dynamic duo for several months, and then – for no reason at all – Mom and Dad brought home another cat. And, get this, like two hours later they brought home still another! These two weren’t like me at all; it appeared they had done some hard time in prison! Of course, I was still the favorite; you could tell by the way Dad talked to me. After only a few days, the new cats went away. Ha! That was fast, I thought. Maybe they should have tried harder to look cute like me. Alas, to my surprise, Mom and Dad brought the first cat back. Her name was Aria and she had just one eye. The next day, the other one came back too, but she looked different. Joey, as they called her, was wearing a cone, and didn’t look anywhere near as tough as she had before. Aria and I felt bad for her and tried to be nice to her.
I got along well with Aria and Joey. They knew my struggle, and they didn’t mind the dog so they had that going for them (I’m protective of Maggie because she’s mine.) I knew we would be good friends. We all even shared the Maggie’s bed.
After another month, Mom and Dad took me back to that awful vet’s office, and this time the vet said I had to spend the night there. I could not believe mom and dad agreed to that; obviously they were not as smart as I thought. They picked me up the next day, but I don’t remember much. I think the vet may have drugged me!

All I wanted to do was sleep. I took a long nap, and when I woke up, I was very sore. I heard Mom say that I had been spayed at the vet’s office so who knows what kind of unspeakable things they did to me there. And to make matters worse, they put a cone on me -a degrading, humiliating cone that made it a real challenge to eat or drink. I decided not to wear the cone. I am the baby, I thought to myself; I can do what I want. Boy was I wrong! Dad promptly put me in a kennel that smelled like Maggie. I couldn’t tell if he was punishing me or just trying to soothe me, but either way, I showed him! I thrashed around in the kennel and beat the cone against the walls until it came off!

That was just one tenth of my crazy level, but after Mom and Dad witnessed that, they let me out of the kennel and I didn’t have to wear the cone anymore. But they would not let me bite my stitches, if you can believe that. Obviously, these inferior humans didn’t know what it felt like to itch.
Fortunately, after a while the itching went away. Life was great. Mom, Dad, Brady (my human brother), Maggie, Aria, Joey, and I were a good family. I’m pretty sure Joey is mega -crazy, though – maybe even crazier than I am. She is, like two-different-cats-crazy. Even with Joey’s weirdness, we all got along. Then things took a turn for the worst. Close to Christmas, Mom and Dad brought home three more cats. Really, I know it was Dad’s fault; there is no way Mom would have done that. One of the cats was old -like, gross old – and the other two were kittens. Did those two ever think they were cute! I knew right away I was going to have to step up to be the leader of this misfit group. It didn’t matter if they wanted a leader or not; it was going to happen. After a few months of asserting my dominance, I was top dog, (ahem, top cat). But the madness did not stop there. Before I knew it, three more cats had joined our party of seven (counting Maggie). Come on, Dad . Really?
I decided at that point to become the feared ruler of our home, and I had to show everyone who was boss – including my own father. I have everything under control now. I show affection to my mom and dad, but only when I need something.

I can’t let Dad think he is in charge, or he might bring another cat home. I even sleep on Mom’s head, just to assert my dominance. Take that, Dad.
I am almost five years old, now. Between you and me, I love my home and all my family – even the cats. I can’t always show it, of course. Those guys might fall out of line if they thought I was slacking. Well, this is where my story ends for now, but I promise it will be the best one you read. The other cats are just boring compared to me.
Your next read is The Story Of Joey