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Otie Lebowitz |
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Please allow me to introduce myself - I'm a cat of wealth and taste. Well, that's not really true. I am as poor as the "proverbial church-mouse", but I am a big fan of Mick Jagger's, so I couldn't resist that intro. Well, it did capture your attention, didn't it? Okay - here goes.. My name is Otie Lebowitz, but you can call me Ishmael. Hey, it worked for Herman Melville didn't it? If I do a good job with this personal page, it might turn out to be more popular than Moby Dick, and he was really, really big! Well, for now, just call me Otie. Now that I have your attention, shall I proceed with my story? If you are still reading, I will take that as a "yes"! Where to begin? When you've lived as many lives as I have, there are plenty of stories to tell. Like all cats, I have nine lives, and believe you me, my career have been a chequered one! I come from humble origins. My mother was a feckless black kitty who had numerous gentlecat callers. I do believe that my putative father was a Merchant Marine on shore leave. I'm not saying my mother was a "roundheels", but she always had lots of male admirers of the feline persuasion. Because my mother was in a penurious state, she sent my brother, Milo and myself off to the clinic of a kindly vet, who made it his mission to find us adoptive homes, and the sooner the better. Although he was a kind boniface, he had many cats in residence at his hostel, which was a half-way house for homeless kitties such as ourselves. Milo and I were determined to get adopted, preferably together. So we practiced all the ploys that are very effective in the seduction of future human mothers-to-be. First we practiced the time-honored art of "The Silent Miaow", as so eloquently described in the writings of Paul Gallico, the poet laureate of feline literature. Since neither Milo nor I were ill-favoured kitties, we knew we had a good chance of finding some "suckers", er I mean adoptive parents, to take us home. We practiced headbonking, perfected purring to a fine art, and did everything in our power to make us irresistible. Now all we had to do was bide our time and wait to be discovered by some hapless human. Our wait was not long! One day an amiable human, named Ruth, visited the clinic of the kindly vet, because she had been told about a kitty who needed a good home. Unfortunately for her, but fortunately for us, it just wasn't a match. So crestfallen, Ruth was leaving the vet's with an empty varikennel and sadness and disappointment in her kind heart. Not one to miss a golden opportunity, the good doctor rushed after her, calling "Wait Ruth - how about kittens?" Aha! That vet knew just what to do and he was determined to get Milo and myself adopted. Sometimes he affectionately referred to us as those "two feline freeloaders". He scooped us up in his massive palms, and presented them to our prospective adoptive mother, Ruth. The poor woman fell head-over-heels in love with both of us. Hey, we had prepared quite well for this, so she didn't stand a ghost of a chance in going home without us. She kept cuddling first one of us, then the other, totally unable to make up her mind which one to take home with her. We were really purring like feline outboard motors, and gazing into her eyes with a look of longing, which was an emotion that could not be denied. Luckily, Ruth was a Libra and an indecisive one at that. The good doctor, was no dummy, so he went in for the kill. "Ruth - take them both. They are brother and sister. They eat together, sleep together, play together. How could you have the heart to separate them? His salesmanship worked. That guy could sell ice to the Eskimos! In a flash, we found ourselves popped into that formerly empty varikennel, and heading to our new home and new life, at Chez Lebowitz, Ruth's humble abode. We were happy at Chez Lebowitz right from the start. Already in residence was a maternal tiger-striped tabbie cat, named Alison. She took us under her maternal wing, and made us feel wanted, safe, and secure in our new digs. Milo eventually fell in love with Alison, but that's another story. Milo and I were delighted with the many windowsills at Chez Lebowitz, and had great fun watching the world go by, and stuttering in frustration at elusive birds. Soon we felt right at home, and enjoyed running around and chasing each other, something we still do. Soon Ruth adopted yet another kitty, which she named "Ditzy", and believe me, that calico kitty really lived up to her name! She and Milo soon became wrestling partners, and inseparable pals. Ditzy loved to eat, and still does, and she "bulked-up", so she could sumo wrestle with Milo. I had fun playing with the furry mice Ruth supplied. But our favorite toy was not a toy per se, but Ruth's sofa in the living room. We found that sofa an ideal scratching post (much more fun than those commercial ones she bought!), and if Ruth ever wanted to donate it to Goodwill, they would pay her money to keep it. So we had definitely made our mark at Chez Lebowitz. Before Milo was neutered (which he refers to as "that unfortunate operation), he enjoyed peeing on Ruth's Hungarian down comforter, a relic from her palmier days, before she became a pauper, thanks to the resident felines, who ate her out of house and home! Ah - life was good at Chez Lebowitz, and gets better all the time. Our accommodations are humble, but comfortable. Milo and I have congenial feline roommates, Ditzy and Alison. Getting Ruth to cater to our every whim is a piece of cake. She is putty in our capable paws, and take full advantage of that favorable situation. When Ruth got an iMac as a birthday present from her brother, she decided to write about what she knew best - the kitties at Chez Lebowitz. Soon Alison, Ditzy, Milo and I all had our own websites, and we attracted a cult following on the net. Now we write our own stories, which Milo claims are superior than anything Ruth has ever written, but don't tell her he said that. We both believe that discretion truly is the "better part of valour"! I think by now that you have a good idea of our life and times at Chez Lebowitz, that humble hostelry for rescued kitties. Guess who rules here? Hint - it sure isn't Ruth! Yes, things just couldn't get better for two formerly homeless kitties. Milo and I just love it here. We have great accommodations, a groaning board of every conceivable variety of cat food, and a human who waits on us hand and foot. We have a live-in webmistress, stage-mother and abject slave, in Ruth. Life just doesn't get any better than this, is you ask me.
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