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Brandee's Adoption Certificate

A little privacy please!

So I'm a couch potato!

Every girl needs her beauty rest!

Brandee was about 18 months old when I brought her home on January 4, 1997, after being with her vet for several months. She was, you see, a victim of abuse. Yes, Brandee, after being rescued by Ginny (the dog who rescues cats) and Philip Gonzalez, was placed in a foster home with a very caring foster person, a single woman, who cared for several of Ginny's rescues, including Marlee. However, as fate would have it, this woman soon met a police detective and the relationship quickly led to marriage. Here the story gets hazy but this cruel, miserable excuse for a human being wound up throwing my Brandee off the roof of their two-storey house. The woman immediately called Sheilah Harris, Philip's sidekick, and all of Ginny's rescues were removed from her home. Most found new foster homes. Brandee and Marlee went to their vet. Brandee was found to be very badly bruised but supposedly no broken bones.

She is a beautiful, but overweight, tabby and weighs about 11 pounds. She is very confident and, at that time, quickly established herself as the dominant cat--never for one minute letting Marlee forget who was top cat! Brandee tried to coax Marlee into playing but Marlee would have nothing to do with Brandee. This, in turn, angered Brandee who would then lunge at Marlee. Brandee needed a companion. I originally hoped the two bratcats would give each other friendship and companionship. The rescuer assured me, before adopting them, that they were fostered in the same home and got along great. This definitely was not the case unless you considered World War II great. I don't consider that to be the case and was really upset when World War III erupted in my home. Brandee is a real mischief-maker and is in to everything. She also loves using the furniture instead of her scratching boards. I have tried everything but I cannot seem to break her of this habit. She is extremely intelligent and knows she is doing wrong but doesn't care. If she sees me, she will use her scratching post and loves being praised for doing so, but if she doesn't know I'm watching her, it's back to the sofa or mattress, her two favorite spots.

A further update on Brandee came about after a visit to her vet for a routine dental cleaning. The vet called me to say that almost every tooth in her mouth was cracked and, some so badly, that he had to remove eight teeth. My heart was broken as I came to realize that Brandee's roof-hurling incident may not have cause broken bones but it had to be responsible for those broken teeth. To this day, I don't know if her other cracked teeth are hurting her. My poor little girl had to live through such a horror and this will haunt both of us forever. Can anyone blame me for spoiling her rotten? She deserves every bit of it.

Fat Is Fun Furternity

Little Miracle Plaque

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