The last week cats have been surfacing in my life which took me into a tailspin about having one of my own. My kitty was given to me when I was nine years old. I liked cats, but the little creature that I quickly named Tiny Mimi, being eight weeks old and Siamese, had all the remarkable traits of that breed, inspiring affection and admiration at once. Within a few days, she quickly developed thoroughly into an engaging personality in our household. She was my ideal companion. I bought her a collar with a bell and blue gems to match her piercing blue eyes. I doted on her; drew pictures of her, groomed her, coddled her, played with her, placed in her my Schwinn bicycle basket for rides, fed her my favorite (tuna-fish and ice cream), slept with her, photographed her beauty; laughed at her mischief, and spoke softly to her when I wanted her love and attention. Being a clever Gemini kitty, she spoke back. And I being her devoted mother, listened to all of her meows.
Photographs of her are inserted in my mothers' photo albums, perhaps I'll post them sometime. Today I discovered Hollywood film stars also had a fondness for Siamese. I completely understand. How could they not? Siamese are as loving as dogs, are intelligent, sociable, quick, adaptable, athletic, and they gravitate toward people, not on occasion as other cats do, this fine fabulous feline pedigree does because they are truly the royals of the cat kingdom.
