Rain

         I have had so much fun outside exploring.  I think I've been all over the neighborhood.  I now come when my name is called.  Mum has been so concerned.  She would yell and yell and ask where had I gone.  She never followed me.  She really becomes fanatic.  I would be gone for hours at a time, but I always checked on her to see if she was still there.  I sleep with her and Dad.  I don't stay outside after dark.
         Today I was outside doing my morning inspection of the garden and surrounding grounds, when water came out of the sky.  I got all wet.  I tried to hide under bushes but the water still reached me.  When it stopped I ran to the deck door and Mum let me in.  She called me "Wet Cat", and explained all that water was called  "rain".  I'll try to use my instincts to know when to stay in when the water falls, now that I've experienced it.
         Later Dad called me "Bad Cat".  I was up on the counter ready to jump to the top of the cabinets, when this glass of tea fell over, broke, and tea went everywhere.  I realized something happened, but how did I know I'd hit it?  Mum says all her Abyssinians broke things.  She said , "It's the nature of the breed".
         I've been meeting the other cats.  There are sooooo many!  Wow, how will I ever know their names, but I'm considered very intelligent (Altho Dad says I'm not any smarter than the rest....)
         The cat fighting with Popeye is named Gary.  He came here as an adult with no claws.  (Why would some human do this torture and then throw him away."  Blackie, the Big Bad Cat, came from a shelter where unwanted cats and kittens are taken.  They say even dogs go there to hopefully find homes.  He still has some bad habits, too nasty to put into print. Then there's Si Si Sung, a blue-eyed half Siamese.  He told me he didn't get enough attention, and that Gary didn't either.  Hammond is Dad's cat.  He follows him everywhere, even sits on the shelf above his computer.  He got into trouble a week or so ago.  He was on Dad's keyboard and changed his settings.  How mad he was!  He said it cost him money.  Hammond was called "Paper Plate" by a friend.  Mom saw him sleeping in the mud by the house next door.  Dad and her friend said that wasn't a cat.  It was a paperplate.  Mum insisted and found him.  He is old and was very unkept.  But the cat doctor (called a "vet") took care of him and made him better, altho to me he still looks ungroomed.
         That's all for now....