Now, look to the left, son.

Gerrtie, short for Gertrude, enjoyed spending time with her first born, Bertrude, or Bert.

Often, I'd find them together while she taught him the proper etiquette for an indoor/outdoor cat's survival.

On this particular afternoon, she and her son spent a good two hours on the window ledge watching the birds busy in the small fruit orchard in the backyard.

I think Bert was more interested in the sunshine than the birds, but his mother never complained.

Is that what it's for?

Kittens are full of mischief as we all know. These two, one of which is Gerttie and Damien's son, liked to play on a brown paper bag.

The bag would always be offered with a wide gapping mouth for them to crawl into. They never did. When it was paper bag time, they jumped on it and flattened it.

But every once in a while, one of the adult cats would come by and look at them in wonder. This time, I caught them staring at their mother as if she was informing them of what they should do with a brown paper bag (let's face it, cats are telepathic).

Damien, if you look to the upper right, stalked by as if he knew she was wasting her time. Sure enough, as soon as Gerttie left the room, they went back to wrestling on top of the flattened bag.

Lady & Laddie - the saga of the twins

Lady and her twin brother Laddie lived at the Strassenberg house in Port Jefferson, New York. Both were pure white, lost in the snow type white with blue eyes, medium length soft silky fur.

Laddie, sitting on the left, was the silent guardian who always looked after his sister. They would spend hours sitting on the window ledge watching activities outside.

And then there was Lady. She was the house gossip. She was a cat who never met another cat she could ignore, or a person she could ignore. In fact, I don't think Lady saw anything she didn't want to talk about or to.

And talk she did. Gossip, complain, squawk, chat about the temperature inside and out, the bird who dared get too close to the glass, whatever! With an occasional screech tossed in for good measure

This is her on an ordinary day. The only time she wasn't busy chatting was when she slept.

And poor Laddie, he never could get a word in edgewise or any
other-wise. He was indeed the silent sentinel.

Perhaps Laddie waited until she slept, crept out through the cat
door and talked with one of the other cats where Lady wouldn't
hear him.

Or maybe he howled at the moon when no one was around to hear
him complain that his ears hurt.

Cats I Have Borrowed - by Larry's wife, guest blogger

Circa 1963.

A neighbor's cat, name unknown.
I can never resist any of them but especially the black ones. My baby brother there still isn't into cats.

1981
My roomate's kittens, Saroche (male) and Mani (female), when we brought them home, and a few months later.

I was finishing up my degree, while my roomate was just getting started. I was home more, and these two spent a lot of time in my room. And i didn't even own an electric blanket yet. Maybe it was because my room opened right into the kitchen...

1982

I got a job in the same library in which one of my library-school friends worked, and roomed with her -- plus her three cats and a dog -- for my first 3 months. The electric blanket made me very popular with (L to R):

Lesh (named after Phil Lesh), Willie, and Mouse (a dear little abuse survivor, so-named because she squeaked.)

A Cat I Wish I knew

This little "terror" belonged to a good friend Linda Speiser from Stony Brook, New York. I don't know the cat's name, but think she was adorable. A big black fluff ball of fur who I am certain kept Linda company with a lot of demands for attention and equal doses of affection.

Tree Hunting

Gerttie's kitten grew fast. As summer arrived, they were old enough to venture out into the wilds of Rocky Point, New York (yes once upon a time there were more trees in Rocky Point than houses).

This little creature, nameless since she was on the to go list, climbed about 15 feet into a tree and was fascinated by the Robin perched over her head.

I don't think she had an idea about what she saw, or what she might want to do about it, but the bird kept her entertained until it flew off in a huff.

The Yin and the Yang of It

Cats have an odd way of answering questions about life. Around the time this photo was taken, I and friends had been introduced to Chinese philosophy. We all thought that the Yin Yang was cool, and used the symbol in many ways.

But no one knew why the Chinese decided on this particular diagram or where the idea came from.

Lo and behold, Saysheen (a seal point siamese) and Bert (a mostly black mutt), now quite grown up and choosy about the company he kept, decided the best way to get through a cold New York winters was to curl up with a good friend and sleep it off.

Winter's Indifference

Sonya and Damien both enjoyed winter. They seemed to play games of hide and seek with the rest of the cats. Damien had a problem with his tail, which stood out like a flag. However, dainty Sonya blended nicely, and would jump out at any unsuspecting cat, or human who happened by.

The Howling Kitten

We rescued this midget Lilac Point Siamese from a life of mediocrity. Lilac Points were and are I suppose, rather uncommon.

I named her Rok Poi. I don't have a clue why, but there it is.

The photo shows her in all her glory one of the rare moments when she was not complaining. The rest of the time, day and night, as long as she wasn't asleep (we all tried to avoid disturbing her including the other 17 cats) this little thing cried and howled as if she was being poked and prodded by an army of doctors determined to discover why in God's name she never shut up!

After 2 sleepless weeks, I understood why Lilac Points are uncommon. Who would want one?

I nearly had to tranquilize her to convince the poor suckers who wanted to adopt her that she was a pleasant kitten to have around.

"Why, they asked, "do you want to give her up?"

"Have too many cats," I replied tongue-in-cheek, and gave them a bag of cat food as a bribe. They fell for it and she was gone, sleep returned, and I never heard from the suckers again.

Bertrude's First Day

Little Bert, once he was cleaned by Gerttie, struggled onto his tiny wobbly legs and fell over. After three attempts, he decided, as most cats do at times like this, that a nap would be appropriate.

Tigger and Ka Ko

This photo shows the moment when I realized I might've had too many cats. Both Tigger (on the left) and Ka Ko were upset that I wanted to sit and view the evening news.

They won. I sat on the floor.

Sonya, Saysheen and Ka Ko

This was taken several hours after the photo in the previous post. As you can see, Sonya (face hidden for cat reasons) shared with Saysheen (face showing center rear) and Ka Ko a mixed up calico.

Ka Ko, as you can see, was not happy about Sonya's choice of ... well, butt placement. Guess Sonya wasn't quite over the confrontation mood that developed with Saysheen.

Ka Ko is the cat who abandoned her newborns under the recliner, which Gerttie adopted. Ka Ko had gotten pregnant during her first heat. Damien was the father. Boy will be boys!

Sonya and Saysheen

Naturally, when you have 18 cats in the house there are the occasional confrontations. Sonya, the cat showing her displeasure, was disturbed that the newest member of the family Saysheen, wanted to use Sonya's favorite chair.

After a brief scuffle, they settled down and became friends.

Well, okay it required the proper application of treats at the appropriate time.

Damien the Alley Cat

"Yo," he seemed to say. "I told you to follow me!"

Poor Damien, the adult in the photo, was stunned when his son, who looked a lot like him so he couldn't deny fatherhood, refused to obey.

I was delighted. Damien never obeyed me except when I put food in his bowl and even then his behavior had nothing to do with me.

I found him in an alley in Port Jefferson Station on New York's Long Island. He was skinny and dirty, and avoiding everyone . . . except me, of course.

Until then, Gerttie was an only cat. After he came around, he and Gerttie (below) increased the numbers as quickly as possible.

Gertude of Rocky Point

Okay, maybe Gerttie doesn't look happy in the first photo, but I'd forgotten the catnip . . . again!

To make matters worse, I switched her from can food to dry food and then forgot to clean the litter box when she thought it needed cleaning.


She did enjoy some autumn hunting, but did not like getting her paws dirty, so limited her escapades to the top of the picnic table.



When she had her first and only litter, she seemed hesitant as she confronted her first born Bertrude. I wasn't sure, but she seemed like she wanted me to clean up the birth sac.

Meanwhile, poor Bert was struggling for air, feebly kicking his feet to get her attention.

Finally, she took care of his problem, and then proceeded to birth four more with no additional glaring in my direction.

I wanted to tell her, "Hey, don't look at me. I'm not the father."

But the father Damien, had by then found a place to hide in the basement to lick his wounds.

Gerttie was a perfect mother. When another of my cats gave birth to three kittens and abandoned them under the lounge chair, Gerttie adopted them, nursed them too. Of course she got canned food during the ordeal, but no catnip.

Too many cats, not enough . . .

Vigress was my first cat. I adopted her while living in a pup tent in the woods in Maryland back in the early 1970s.

Before she decided I might be okay, I had nothing but dogs. Since, I've had 2 dogs, but 24 cats, or is it 25?

I suppose you might think she changed my opinion about cats, but before her I was indifferent towards cats.

Now, I'm doing a blog exclusively about cats.

Hmmmmm