The first cat I ever knew was Dolly, who was born two months before my older sister. We had her for 12 years. And in that time we had many others. Cats have always been a part of my life. So when I moved out on my own, I had to get a kitty of my own. (Click on thumbnails to see the enlarged pictures.)

Symphony was my first kitty to call my own. She was 9 weeks old when I got her as a sophomore in high school, and it was love at first sight. She was a silver tabby--white with black stripes. She was very smart and playful and so athletic. She also loved to hunt and would bring me birds and rabbits. She once brought my sister a snake. My sister didn't appreciate it.

Bangkok was my second kitten, half Siamese and half Himalayan (which translates into 3/4 Siamese and 1/4 Persian). I got her soon after getting Symphony, so they lived together. Unfortunately though, she was killed by a car before her first birthday.

I took Symphony with me to college once I moved out of the dorms. She developed flea allergies and had to stay inside from then on. No more hunting. But she still loved to play.

I lost Symphony while I was away in Europe. It broke my heart that I hadn't been able to say goodbye to her. She was only 6 years old.

When I returned to the states, I got a new kitten, a Siamese/Tabby mix. I was going to name him Amadeus after my favorite composer. But this kitten just wasn't dignified enough for such a lofty name. He was clumsy and always getting into things. So I had to find him a new name. In the interim we called him "Pooder" which is a derivation of "Kitty-poo."

Poodie died just a couple months before his 15th birthday. He definitely grew into dignity and was a wonderful big brother to the kittens who came later. He was a very good cat and we miss him a lot.

Here's Poodie at Christmas, snuggled up under my tree. He's gotten quite big, but he's still my baby.