Well. What do you know…

my rascally brother, after three months of high-tailed adventure and mystery

Hmmmmm…I’m not quite sure what to say, here. Here is both a mystery AND an adventure – and I had nothing to do with either of them. That doesn’t happen very often.

It’s weird, I know, but my BROTHER HAS BEEN FOUND!!! My brother Taffy disappeared last April.  Where he went, how he got there and what he did that whole time are still mysteries.  Mysteries that we may never figure out because, sadly, his many adventures have not changed his overall obnoxious personality. Taffy isn’t talking.

This is not the first time Taffy has gone missing from my life.  It is hard to remember so far back, but I’m pretty sure he was with us at the very beginning, when we began our lives as adventure cats by escaping from the horrid box of holes.


After that, we did a lot of investigations together, especially of the Ugly Kitten   who was never grew to appreciate Taffy’s idea of “play time.”  Neither did Smokey, because all he ever wanted to do was pounce on her and bitebitebitebite her head.  She used to end up drenched in spit. It was a little tiresome.  Then one day, when we hiding from him in the bookshelf, we realized, Taff just wasn’t there any more.

Right away, we started investigating.  I thought it would be helpful to look for him in the tree, but Smokes did that weird thing where she listens to the humans, to see what they knew.  And she learned a lot. Some amazing things, ackshully.  Like she learned that Taffy had not only a new family who loved him, but also a JOB.  He worked at a flower shop. 

He helped with arrangements,


and drove a delivery van.   

He pulled flowers from arrangements that he didn’t like.  He knocked over vases that were past their prime.  At Christmas, he climbed tree in the front window, ate a few ornaments, attacked the light up reindeer and peed on the artificial snow.  Customers loved him.  He had become a success and wasn’t coming home anytime soon. We were kinda impressed. The Ugly Kitten was relieved.

Every day, he would finish his nap in the store window at precisely 5:30 pm, then jump on the work table and swish his tail, which was his way of saying “clean up!  it’s time to go! Let’s MoveMoveMove!”  That day, when he didn’t give the closing time orders, evabuddy immediately suspected foul play. 

The humans searched and searched.  They put up fliers and called the Humane Society.  Nothing.  They cried and figured it was time to give up but then one day, three months later, a man called to say that a bossy, bitey orange cat had been coming to his back door, every night at midnight, demanding to be fed.  He said there were lots of cats in his neighborhood, 5 MILES AWAY, but this cat had on a collar with a phone number. That’s how they found him.  

Actually, it took his Humans three trips to bring him home.   Like I keep telling you, Taffy is kind of a butthead. He didn’t want to come home. Seems like he had become a Boss of a bunch of Alley Cats; a job, clearly, he was born to do. Or maybe he just was sick of flowers or dealing with the traffic, or some kind of mid-life kitty crisis.  I don’t know.  He won’t talk.  Anyway, he’s back, for now, and everyone seems to think things have returned to normal.

Me, I’m not so sure.  I have a few questions for my Brother, the Butthead.  Where did he go? Did he see Smokey anywhere?  Was he keeping her trapped in that Alley so he could bite her head some more? Where did he go and why didn’t he take me?  I won’t rest until I have some answers.

One thought on “Well. What do you know…

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