Why’s everybody always picking on me? Haven’t I been a good kitty, putting up with the eye drops and the chicken slop and minding my own business? Apparently not good enough: I was sleeping too much and eating too little.

Two days ago, Mom stuffed me into a plastic box and hauled me out of the house. She took me to the same place that the Birmingham police did when they found me, skinny and flea-ridden, nearly two and one-half years ago. Once there Dr. C. poked and prodded me and pried open my mouth. I was taken away, x-rayed, stabbed (more than once), and put in a cage with this long plastic tube attached to my front leg. Then I realized: Mom is lost!

I waited a long time, wondering what had happened to Mom and why she left me here. Finally, I found her. There she was at the door of my cage, talking to me and petting me. Then I lost her again. She keeps coming back once in a while, but she does not stay “found” or take me home.

I promise to be a good kitty! Please rescue me!

Mom is still amazed at how daring I am becoming. She took some photos of me in her bedroom this morning when I came in to join Googlie, Jou Jou B, Jolie, and Jenise, and made myself at home in the little “cave bed.” We cats love to give our humans surprises!

I am squinting because Mom is still putting that dumb drop in my right eye twice a day.

When Mom got home from work this afternoon, she and Grandma took my Aunt Toshi Purrs-a-Lot to the dreaded V-E-T, Toshi did not eat or move from one particular spot in the living room all day, and she seemed a bit congested. The vet prescribed azithromycin liquid for her. Mom got some for Patch, who is also congested. Good luck getting any of that stuff into Patch! Patch was too smart to eat that “doctored up” food this evening. I don’t think Toshi appreciated the surprises she got today.

For some reason that I cannot comprehend, Mom seems to be picking on me lately. Two weeks ago she hauled me all over creation. I tried to tell her I was sick to my stomach, but she just kept driving. Finally, I just SHOWED her (from both ends) how she was making me feel. After all that wandering we ended up–where else?–at a veterinary hospital. I got drops in the eyes, had bright lights shined at me, was shaved on the belly, got x-rayed and ultra-sounded, and was forced to donate my blood. Lucky for me, Mom eventually came back and took me home.

I thought my ordeal was over, but NO! Mom started putting a drop in my right eye twice every day. About a week later, she started giving me this yechy “chicken-flavored” liquid twice a day, too. I have tried to endure all this like the AWESOME kitty that I am. I kept on hoping it would stop, and we could get back to normal.

No such luck! Today Mom jammed me in a carrier again, a bigger one this time, but a carrier nonetheless. Off in the car we went. I politely complained. I became fairly insistent. Mom did not listen, so I had to demonstrate my unhappiness visibly…just like before. Again we arrived at this special veterinary hospital–me all messy and stinky–so the ophthalmologist could repeat her examinations of my eyes. I heard her tell Mom that the surface of my right eye looked much better, and that the inflammation in the back of my eyes had been reduced in some areas. I thought this was good news until she said she wanted to see me once more in a week or two. ANOTHER trip to dread! If my eyes are still inflamed they are considering taking some fluid from my eye(s)…an OPERATION!!! Please, Mom, no more!

When Mom first adopted me in January 2013, she tried really hard to get me integrated with the other family felines. I demonstrated clearly–to her and to the other cats–that I was not about to cooperate. For the past year and a half I have chosen to live by myself in the kitchen and bathroom. I have two of my own beds, my own dishes, and my own litterbox.

After a while, I decided that it might be a good idea to check out the food bowls that the other cats were using to see if they had any perks that I was lacking. On occasion I would howl at the door until Mom or Dad would let me in. If no other cat was in the immediate vicinity, I would enter, check out the bowls (and munch a bit if there was something good), and howl again to be let out. Mom really tried to talk me into exploring and sticking around, but I did not feel like doing that…until a couple weeks ago.

It was a Sunday afternoon, August 24, and Dad was at work. I howled to come in and soon wanted to leave. Mom talked to me, and called me to come over. I don’t know why I changed my mind, but I decided to stay and have a look around. Mom was really surprised to find me in the window where Purrin’Dot used to hide every time the vacuum came out. I walked around on Dad’s desk and Mom’s desk, and even sat for a while on Mom’s lap. I could tell she was amazed. When Dad got home, she told him about my exploits. He did not seem to believe her.

Over the course of the next couple weeks Dad has had ample opportunity to witness my remarkable transformation from loner to (mostly) peaceful co-exister. I am still spending nights by myself (Dad doesn’t trust me), but much of the day and evening with my (human and feline) family. I kind of like it in here; I have a wider choice of napping spots and more opportunities to sit on Mom’s lap.

When allowed to reside by myself–without all those feline “friends”–I can have a pretty good time. Mom published this video about me on Youtube on March 9, 2013.

Mom was obsessed with documenting every stage of my acclimation to my new home and fellow felines. I was not happy AT ALL about the other cats I discovered. My preference was to hang out alone in the kitchen/bathroom area, where I could do my thing undisturbed. Nevertheless, Mom kept trying to integrate me. Mom published this video on Youtube on February 27, 2017.

I spent a little over two months at Gasow, my temporary new home. Life in a cage was not what I would deem exciting, but it sure beat the cold winter weather in Michigan and scrounging for scraps of food. I was content to be warm and on the mend. I ignored the other cats in the holding area where I was and even slept through some of the nice lady’s visits.

Finally it was January 19, 2013. The vet said I was ready to go to my new home. If I had an “old home,” I was not sharing that information with anyone. One of the vet techs took my out of my cage and carried me down a long hallway. Down at the end of the hall was the nice lady who had visited me. She had some strange little gadget up over her face. It was pointed at me. The vet tech put me in a small rectangular hard plastic box with a wire front door. The lady put down the gadget (a camera), picked up the box I was in, and carried me out,

In a little while the box stopped moving. The nice lady said she was my new mom and opened the wire door. I was in a strange place. It smelled different. There were dishes of food and water, and a litter box. I examined my new surroundings while Mom aimed that camera thing at me again. She said my name was Pawscar Awesome, and I was home. I believed her.

In case you want to know what kind of lady it was who became my mom, I think the picture below will tell you all you need to know. Although it comes from a time B.P.A. (before Pawscar Awesome), it reflects her character and interests purrfectly.

Rescued in Birmingham

I was rescued and safe, The Birmingham Police knew just where to take me: Gasow Veterinary Hospital. The kind people there isolated me (because of my flea infestation and unknown health status) and started to clean me up and mend my wounds.

Safe at the Veterinary Hospital

Shortly after I arrived, I had a visitor. A lady came, looked me over, and asked lots of questions about me. She told one of the vet techs that she wanted to adopt me if I did not carry any diseases that would threaten her other cats. Tests revealed that I did not have FIV or feline leukemia or any other life-threatening condition, but I was weak and needed time to recuperate.

The lady came to visit me in the hospital quite often, She spoke to me and petted me and watched me get better.

I purred a lot and took life easy. I did not even mind being in a cage, because I was warm and had enough to eat. Finally, I felt safe.

My past is shrouded in mystery. Mom has often asked me questions about the time before she adopted me:

Where did I come from?
What was my name?
When was I born?
Why am I tame?
Who gave me love?
Where did they go?
How could they leave me?

My humans don’t know…and I’m not telling.

As far as my family knows, my life began in mid-November, 2012. I was found in Birmingham, Michigan, in the alley behind Beyond Juice on Maple Road, west of Woodward Avenue.

The Birmingham Police captured me in an alley behind the business. I did not put up much of a struggle. I was malnourished, skinny, and full of fleas. I had burns on my feet and sides, probably caused by steam coming up from the manhole covers I stayed close to, trying to stay warm.

I realize now that the police were trying to help me stay alive and safe.