Once you start reading, it will become clear this is Lynne's work, not Sue's. But, it seems important to clarify this upfront nonetheless.
Some women lie about their age. I'll probably have to lie about how many cats I own.
What follows is a complete listing of all the cats that have lived on the Gold Coast at the same time as me. Unless otherwise noted, I will not list the demise of said cats. It's also important to note that at no time did I surpass the Cat Capacity of "Six."
1995 - We moved in with Joe and Arthur. Goldie already lived here. His girlfriend, Cleo, also took up residence, along with that scoundrel Johnny Cat (he looked like the cat on the cat litter bag), who always tried to woo Cleo away from Goldie. Shortly upon arrival, all were spayed or neutered. Johnny Cat left town and Goldie (eventually) never returned from the woods. We never missed those two, but we sure liked Cleo.
That same year, I was returning home from my job at the local humane society, only to find a small cat standing in the middle of the road. When I stopped, heaved a great sigh, and opened my car door, he dashed in. That's when Otto, aka "Bunnyman", got here. He was a great cat - retrieved bouncy balls like a labrador.
Olive yowled incessantly from a branch high up in a maple tree. I heard her as I came out of the newly-opened kennel. When I climbed the ladder, she was too scared to move. I had to literally tear her from the branch and pluck her onto my lumberjack coat to get her down. Olive still lives here, a professional napper.
Baker lived in the dumpster at the local pizza shop until I got take-out on a rainy night. Then he lived here. Giant Black Bart found his way here and loved beating up Olive.
Penny was dumped at the local vet's office in April 2003 and was my birthday present - a kitten. She really did have nine lives - venturing into the fridge for regular chilly visits, chased by a fox til Foster and Guinnes intervened, gone for days only to return thin and dehydrated, and showing up with a lame leg and grease on her body. And that's after surviving Darren running her over in his electric cart.
Chloe lived here a short time after someone begged me to keep her, just as an outside cat. Chloe was a great mouser, yet it was her downfall as well.
A feral kitten in Ada, Dooley was (and still is) the least friendly cat. However, he's one of the sweetest, once you make his list. Franklin, the biggest cat I've ever owned at 20 pounds, is like a dog, following me around, waiting for a pat on the head.
Carbon was dumped off here as a tiny, three week old dirty kitten. She was a mess but is now one of the most beautiful with a coat as soft as mink (although I've never felt mink, so I could be all wrong about that).
Which brings me to that terrorist of a kitten, The Captain. Found just north of here on June 1st, the month old shy kitten now has the whole Gold Coast in his fearful reign.
Summer Fridays, Vol. 8.
20 hours ago