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Meet Milo Lebowitz
Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a cat of wealth and
taste. I've been around for a long, long time...
No, I am not the devil, nor do I require any sympathy.
I just wanted to get your attention, so you would keep
reading. Well, it worked didn't it?
My name is Milo Lebowitz, and I am a debonair orange tabby
cat of considerable charm and charisma, or so I've been
told! If my name is familiar to you, most likely you have
read one of the stories my human, Ruth has written about me.
But if you want to get a first-hand look at my life and
times, keep reading. This story is the first chapter of my
memoirs, which give all indications of becoming of Proustian
proportions. After all, I have at least nine lives, and have
had many adventures in lives I have lived thus far, and
anticipate many more jolly good adventures in my lives to
Where to begin? Ahem...
I was born. No, that's David Copperfield, and not the
illusionist but the author! Not only am I a handsome cat,
but am well-versed in the classics as well.
Alas, fewer cats read the classics these days. With the
advent of the computer, humans and regrettably cats, as
well, are easily seduced into reading pulp fiction, and even
trashy novels! There are even electronic novels now in this
digital age, and I fear if this trend continues, the
libraries may well have to close their doors. But I
As I was saying, before I took that quantum leap, I was born
of humble parentage. My mother was a comely black tuxedo
kitty and my purported father was a handsome orange tabby
cat, who was a Merchant Marine on shore-leave. My
susceptible mater, fell "head-over-paws" in love with this
capricious cad, since she had a weakness for a cat in
uniform. If he were in his "mufti", she might never have
been seduced by this handsome stranger. But then, I never
would have been conceived, and thus, have no memoirs to
write. So, in the style of the picaresque novel, I was born
out of wedlock, and sired by a tabby who proved himself a
bounder and a cad, by abandoning my poor mother when she was
Since my lovely mother was penniless, she sent me off to
live with a kindly vet, who promised her he would provide
shelter for both myself and my fair sister, Otie. True to
his word, he took us in, and not only offered us sustenance,
but education as well. He taught us to read and to write,
and we learned to appreciate the classics at a tender age of
ten weeks. Since Otie and I were such precocious students,
the good doctor persevered and taught us French and German
as well. Fair Otie learned to play the pianoforte, and in
the evenings, we would all gather around the hearth and have
many a spirited sing-along with Otie as the accompaniest.
Although our host was kindly, and his hospitality,
unimpeachable, there was a tacit understanding that we would
have to find a suitable human to adopt us, preferably
together. Otie and I became well-versed in the time-honored
art of "The Silent Miaow", whereby a cat can communicate
without uttering a single syllable. One only has to look
into the eyes of a susceptible human, and one's innermost
thoughts and wishes are communicated, albeit silently.
We also practiced "headbonks", since body language should
never be underestimated. Sonorous purring was another art we
practiced, since it is quite effective on humans.
Now all we had to do was bide our time, waiting for the
right human to discover us.
Our wait was not a long one. One fine day, an amiable young
woman named Ruth, showed up at the vet's home, because she
had heard of a young adult kitty in need of a good home.
Unfortunately for that kitty, but fotunately for us, the
chemistry was not right. Ready to go home, crestfallen and
empty-handed, she was stopped dead in her tracks, when the
vet called out in his booming baritone, "Wait Ruth - how
about kittens?" Ah, that vet knew a golden opportunity when
he saw one. He brought forth both Otie and myself, one in
each of his massive palms. Well, we began our "cute act",
and commenced purring, giving headbonks, and gazing into
Ruth's eyes, speaking volumes, although not a single
syllable had been uttered. Thank you, Paul Gallico, you
literary patron saint of homeless kitties! That good old
"Silent Miaow" closed the deal. Ruth was hooked! Being an
indecisive woman, she could not choose which one of us to
take home. Then the good doctor moved in for the kill -
"Ruth, you must take both. How can you separate them? They
sleep together, dine together, practice French and German
together and practice the pianoforte together.
Please take them both." Well, that clinched the deal - she
was putty in our capable paws! Off we went with Ruth, to
begin this new chapter of our life at that amiable hostelry
called "Chez Lebowitz".
Otie and I settled in comforably right away. We met a lovely
tiger-striped tabbie, named Alison. She was quite motherly,
and took us under her maternal wing. Alison, Otie and I got
along so famously, that Ruth dubbed us her "Peaceable
Kingdom". Before long, another kitty joined our happy home.
Her name was "Ditzy", and she certainly lived up to her
name. She had been trained as a pugilist, and chose yours
truly, Milo Lebowitz, as her wrestling partner of choice.
Ditzy had quite a healthy appetite, and she became a rather
rotund kitty, which proved just perfect for her sport of
choice - sumo wrestling. Ditzy and I spent many congenial
hours in the evening, wrestling companionably by the hearth.
There were sign-alongs at Chez Lebowitz, and invitations to
our get-togethers became quite coveted, since the
hospitality of our benefactress, Ruth, was unimpeachable.
Although I do so love the company of women, there are times
when a gentleman cat such as myself needs to be alone.
So, I made myself a lair, a private retreat that I dubbed,
my "sanctum sanctorum". When the company of all those
females palls, I retreat to my cozy den, which is furnished
with such genteel appurtenances as comfy armchairs, a small
library, and such comestibles, as catnip brandy, and even
fine catnip cigars, one of my few necessary indulgences.
At times, I am visited by like-minded tabby cats, such as my
good friend, Biffy York, who is quite a bon-vivant kitty, my
agreeable new friend, Cinnamon, and Gordi, an amiable
Siberian cat, who hails from Helsinki, but always visits
when he is in the states. My friend Biffy, has great
affection for my sister Otie, and makes the most refined
Yes, my days are happy and full. I enjoy my life with
Alison, Ditzy, Otie and Ruth. There are many windowsills,
which are just perfect for bird-watching. Did I tell you I a
m a member of the Audubon Society?
Our sing-alongs are great fun, and Otie and I recently
joined the Gilbert and Sullivan Society, and even attend
meetings of this venerable society at Steinway Hall in
Currently, I am writing my memoirs, which I find most
enjoyable. I have made many friends on the web, and enjoy
exchanging electronice messages with kindred spirits.
Quite a good life for a cat of humble origins, if you ask