Breed Unknown |
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Age: 18 Years Sex: Female Weight: 17 lbs.
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Leave a treat for Ally
Nicknames:
Rouscka, Rally, Ally-rall, Rouschkie-Roo, Girl, Tilly, Tilly-tally, Tiger Lily
Likes:
Sleeping
Pet-Peeves:
Ally does not like to have her back feet touched. Ever.
Favorite Toy:
"Cat Dancer" toy--wire thingie with cardboard pieces on the end
Favorite Nap Spot:
Bed
Favorite Food:
Dry cat food, but also lamb with rosemary
Skills:
Sleeping incredible amounts of time away
Dwells:
indoors
Arrival Story:
Ally was born to a flea-ridden mother in Richmond, CA. Ally was so small as a kitten that she had to be fattened up with cooked chicken. Ally is 11 years old now and has been through a lot in her life and a few personality changes. In her younger years, Ally never purred and rarely meowed, and was rather standoffish. Then when she was about 3 or 4, she accidentally lived with a mean man who made her hiss when he walked by. After that, she returned to a happy loving household and began purring and meowing. But when Ally lost the best cat friend she ever had, Pouilley, she began meowing a lot. Now, Ally meows loudly and frequently, and also purrs louder than she used to. In her older age she has become a really sweet girl and much less of the grump she was in her early years.
Bio:
Ally is a sweet girl who sleeps almost all day and usually all night. She enjoys a bit of soft blanket or really any place that is warm and soft. Ally's humongous size can be blamed on her almost total inactivity, although saying "squeeze" in a high-pitched voice will bring Ally running (or at least walking fast). Ally is a beautiful brown and orange tabby with deep black stripes and spots. If she were a big cat, she would be a fierce tiger.
In her earlier years, Ally once pried off the Pounce can lid when nobody was around and had her way with the whole can of treats, and then was promptly sick. This has left her a little less fond of Pounce than she once was, she still enjoys a treat here and there. She also really likes being brushed. Ally usually does not like being picked up from her nap spots and will protest loudly about it. She loves to watch blue jays out the window, and is well within her rights to eat them if they fly by her window. Unfortunately, Ally doesn't go outside and so cannot eat the birds.
Lives Remaining:
9 of 9
I've Been On Catster Since:
| February 16th 2005 |
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More than 7 years! |
Rosette, Star and Special Gift History
Catster Id:
118591
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
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April 17th 2005 9:57 pm
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This is my first diary entry but let me catch you up on what's been going on this spring.
A month or so ago my mom took me to the vet, which I hate with the passion of a thousand raging hot suns. I was angry and upset and even the sight of other interesting animals in the waiting room would not entice me to come forward in my carrier. As usual, I refused to come out of the carrier once in the room with Killer (the vet) and although I pushed and braced myself, I was dragged out anyway.
I then suffered the greatest indignity ever known to catkind. I was poked, prodded, had needles stuck in me, and then the worst of all: a thermometer up my pum. I was so upset about that. I couldn't believe my mom would stand by and HOLD me DOWN for that to happen while Killer invaded my privacy. I vowed to show my mom what I thought about that kind of betrayal.
Killer came back with another needle and as he stuck it into my rump, I let out my loudest, most blood-curdling scream and bit my mother's hand twice, and good ones too. I drew a lot of blood. While she went and washed it off, I congratulated myself on a point well made. Increasing my satisfaction were the comments I heard from the waiting room in response to my horrific banshee scream: "Gosh, I'm glad that's not my cat," and "I'm glad I'm not in there!"
Unfortunately, there was no time to rip Killer to shreds as I was bundled into the safety of my carrier and, victorious that I had triumphed over the Madness that is the vet, we went home.
Since then, I've forgiven my mom (actually, I forgave her later that afternoon but I do pull out the stops now and then and remind her of that horrid ordeal by nuzzling the scars on her hand where I mauled her). Life's been pretty good. I think I successfully taught my mom a lesson about taking me to see Killer: I Will Not Go!
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Ask a Cat Lady: Why Does My Cat Love Knocking Things Down?
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