Next to the stove in the kitchen with a saucer of warm milk nearby, I was born to an American short hair tabby. It was a small litter (1) and she lavished her attention on me. Her sire, a part abbysinian, taught me how to fling litter at an early age and Mom passed on her great talents and kitty vocabulary. About the time they were ready to have me out from underfoot, both died of common cat diseases...but they were great while they were here.

That would have been June 8, 1949 in Tuscarawas County, Ohio...a great time to be born.