black cats

13 Wonderpurr Black Cats
The Romancing of Noah
Jesse Survives 2 Nights in Jail
For the Love of…The Little Black Ball

13 Wonderpurr Black Cats

At my house, every day is Black Cat Appreciation Day. In my lifetime I’ve been blessed to have 13 amazing black cats cross my path, and I thank God every day that I’ve been lucky to know them.

So in honor of Black Cat Appreciation Day, I want to introduce you to my Lucky 13, plus three more black cats who have touched my heart.

My first cat arrived compliments of my Grandpa Guy when I was five. Like Herman, Frosty was a white Turkish Angora. Then we adopted a stray white short hair named Seymour. Two white cats that shaped my early love of cats.

Whisper was my first black cat.

After I moved into my own apartment my sister Janice decided I needed a cat for my birthday. Um. Late December isn’t exactly kitten season, but Janice found a tiny black kitten that I named Whisper. Whisper turned out to be a very sick kitty and almost died within days after I got him, but through persistence he lived to grow into a beautiful sleek and totally destructive little brat. The true fault was mine, keeping this spunky man cat in a small apartment. After two years I came to the conclusion he would be happier in a larger home, and I found him a new family. He went on to live Happily Ever After, but not without first leaving me with a true love of black cats.

Sami showed me how clever black cats can be.

Shortly after I moved into my Florida home, a feral stray by the name of Angel gave birth to numerous litters and would always dump them in my yard to feed and get vetted, while avoiding my attempts to have her spayed. One of the litters produced a spunky little girl that I named Sami. A true tomboy with a great sense of humor, Sami came with us when we moved to Kentucky. She was an outside cat, but decided one year to spend the winter inside. Buddy my tabby always slept draped over my left arm. I recall Sami wanted to sleep there, but Bud was adamant about not moving. Instead of giving up and sleeping at the bottom of the bed, Sami crawled onto my pillow, turned around and backed her bottom down between Buddy and I, where she snuggled in happily. Read More

The Romancing of Noah

I knew him only a short time. Nine months tops. But he made a huge impact on me, and now I mourn his death.

Noah arrived last spring, skittish yet curious. And hungry. I am a cat magnet. They find me no matter where I am. I’ve rescued over 70 cats in my adult lifetime. Some choose to make my home their Forever Home. Some move on. Others, like Noah, break my heart.

Every morning and evening Noah waited for me along the creek behind my house. I would bring him kibble and canned food. He wasn’t tame, yet he didn’t strike me as feral either. He was assessing me, determining whether I was worthy of his attention beyond food. Turns out I was. Read More

Jesse Survives 2 Nights in Jail

Dori signedEven though my brofur Hwermie is the host of Tattle Cat Chat, I am better to write this report because… Because I’m Dori–that’s why! And also because my daddy, Nikolas, is kinda best furends with my Uncle Jesse: The Jail Bird.

Jesse is Peaches’ son and Jack’s brother, but he lives in the garage with my dad, Nikolas, because… Just because.

Actually Opie told Mom, “No more indoor cats,” to which our human Dad shouted, “Damn skippy! No more cats!” But Mom set up a super nice cat apartment in the garage with two cat trees, cushy comfortapurr chairs, blankets, heat lamps, toys, litter box, a kitchenette, and the freedom to explore the yard on sunny days, and stay in bed on rainy days.

Typically, Uncle Jesse is a homebuddy. He doesn’t roam. Period. As Dad leaves for work in the morning, he always says to Jesse, “Go outside and kiss a girl.” Jesse lost his true love, YumYum, a blue-eyed Siamese bombshell, at the same time my twin sisfur, Patsy, left home. They left together, and we are pretty sure they moved in with a neighbor who has a Siamese who escaped her home one day and made friends with Yum and Patsy.

Anyway, Uncle Jesse never got over Yum breaking his heart, and he says he’s now a comfirmed bachelor. So is my daddy, Nikolas, who had his heart broken when Patsy left without saying goodbye. Uncle Jesse and my daddy decided to bachelor it together, and that’s how their garage cat apartment came to be.

My daddy is a free spirit and loves to visit the neighbors, but Uncle Jesse is always in the garage or in the yard. He never leaves the property. So when he went missing, Mom immediately knew where he was.

On Tuesday our neighbor’s garage was open all day long. I guess someone was working in there, and forgot to close it. When Dad came home, he said he saw my daddy over there exploring. “He’s going to get closed inside,” I heard Dad tell Mom.

But it wasn’t my daddy who got trapped. It was Uncle Jesse.

I guess my daddy told Uncle Jesse how wonderpurr that garage was, and he just had to see for himself.

Mom didn’t figure out what happened until Wednesday morning when the neighbor’s garage door was closed, and only my daddy showed up for breakfast.  My daddy is very smart. He’s a black cat, and Mom says black cats are highly intelligent. He stood in the driveway, looking at the neighbor’s garage, and was yelling his head off. Mom told him she couldn’t open the door to let Jesse out. They would have to wait until the neighbor’s came home that night.

Nikolas bio


So my daddy sat under our car to wait. And he waited and waited and waited all day. But no neighbors.

Our neighbors have a hair salon and they are theatre actors too, so they keep late hours. Mom put a note on their door, and went to bed. But when they came home around 11:30, they didn’t open the door to let Uncle Jesse out!

Around midnight, Mom got up and wrote another note. As she hobbled (she’s got a bad foot right now) over the culvert and onto their driveway, she saw my daddy, Nikolas, lying on top of their car, and he was yelling at her to do something. She told him she wasn’t going to ring their doorbell this late. Jesse would be fine until morning. And then she put the second note on their front door, telling them to OPEN IT because she figured they had just peeked into the garage and didn’t see a cat. Jesse is shy and wouldn’t announce himself to strangers.

She then went back to bed, but didn’t sleep very well. Neither did I. I slept under her chin and she was really restless, which made it impossible for me to sleep. ^exhausted ears^

Jesse bio photo


The next morning we got up, and immediately went to the garage. My daddy was there, yelling at her, so she figured Jesse was still locked up. She opened the garage door… And there he was, hiding under our car! Yay!

Except he was pretty fweaked out, and was of the opinion that all garages are now scary, so he was staying put under our car. Mom brought him breakfast, and told him she was very happy he’d been sprung from jail. It took my human Dad taking the car to work, and Mom bribing Uncle Jesse into the garage with more breakfast, before he climbed into his favorite cat tree to sleep.

So Uncle Jesse is home and safe, and my daddy, Nikolas, is a hero and best furend for keeping watch over the scary garage, and Mom can stop worrying, and … maybe tonight I can get some sleep.

The End

*takes bow*


For the Love of…The Little Black Ball



On November 15th, an all black cat in Sheffield, South Yorkshire, celebrated her birthday. Her 22nd birthday!

Yes, reaching a ripe old 22 is amazing, but for this particular senior, it’s more than amazing. It’s miraculous!

I became friends with Little Black Ball — yes, that’s her name — earlier this year when I saw her tweet about turning 22 in November. The number 22 caught my attention as my older brofur Buddy lived to see 22 years, despite being diabetic for ten years. Anyway, I couldn’t let Little Black Ball’s birthday pass without a little celebrating.

This is her story:


“I used to live with another family. I was bought as a present for their child’s birthday.

I loved that little girl. I was pushed around in her doll’s pram. I slept on her bed at night. I sat in the sink when she had a bath.

But then the little girl grew up and moved away.

Nobody loved me any more.

CQc_pIAWUAAIqUiMy humans put me outside after my little girl moved away, and they left me there even in the wintertime. I was so cold and getting skinnier by the day.  I would walk to the next house to warm myself on their porch, but the man who would one day become my new daddy wasn’t really that keen on me. But then!

CT7e8NZWEAATrx5Then the lady who would become my new mummy appeared. She loved me from the first moment she saw me. I know this because she’s told me this over and over.

At first I was timid with her. After all, I had loved another human but she abandoned me. How could I ever trust another?

Yet, she persisted. She would put a box with warm blankets on the porch for me, and she would tempt me inside with bits of fish.CTwpqfeWEAA1OmE


When my old humans saw her doing this for me, they said she was mad/crazy. After all, I was nothing but a cat. But my new mummy didn’t care. It took six months before I agreed to stay inside my new mummy and daddy’s house all night. But I’m so glad I did. I felt loved again. This time, I felt real love.

And I never went back to my old home again.


My new daddy told me he didn’t realize how skinny or unloved I was until he stroked my skinny back. He promised to take care of me and love me forever. And to prove it, he now gets up with me every night when I wake him to go outside to wee. I do have a litter tray inside my Forever Home, but after being left outside for so many years, I feel more comfortable weeing in the garden.


In my sun puddle. Walk in front of it at your peril!


Never too old to learn a new hobby. Look! I’m an artist!COK7k4uWsAAQd1H

A few months ago I brought daddy a mouse. It was dead and I was proud.

He freaked and flushed it.

I look for that mouse every day.

(Gotta come up for air sometime!)


My favorite pasttime is watching the telly with my daddy, holding paws. I feel special. I feel loved.


So that’s my story. Today I have everything I need: shelter, food, brushing, medicine. And everything I’ve ever wanted: a Forever Home with a Forever Family. And Love.

Most of all, Love!

The Little Black Ball

Hi, this is Herman!!! I hope you enjoyed reading about Little Black Ball. Do you have a special story you’d like to share? If so, I am accepting submissions for a collection of pet-themed stories to be compiled into a book. One hundred percent of the book’s profits will benefit Four Paws Lifeline, a 501 (c)(3) non-profit organization whose goal is to provide financial assistance to those pet owners who are not able to afford critical care or emergency veterinary care for their furry loved ones. For more information, click here.

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