You knew there was really only one thing I could go with for this letter, didn't you? Yes, you are right.
C is for
We always had cats when I was growing up, because my daddy didn't like dogs. One day, I'll tell you why, but not today. We had cats, and Siamese cats were our favorites. Now that I'm grown, I have dogs, but there is still a soft spot in my heart for cats.
This is Squeaky. Let me tell you how I come by having her.
I was at work one day, when James found her in my front yard. He thought she was mine, and knowing I didn't allow my cats to run loose, he caught her for me. He put her in a pet carrier with a little bowl of water until I could come get her. She wasn't mine. She'd apparently been dumped, and had found her way to the one person-- OK, maybe not the ONLY person, but definitely one of them-- who would take her in, no questions asked.
By the time I got home, she had meowed so much there was nothing left of her voice but a little squeak. That's how she got her name.
Honestly, she was in such poor health that I thought she was going to die. So, I decided that if she was going to die, at least she would die warm, well fed, and in a safe place.
Ten years later, she is still with us--fat, sassy, and running the house hold.
Don't believe me? Just check out the posts I've written about her.
She's the queen.