American Shorthair
Picture of Remorra, a male American Shorthair

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Home:Chicago, IL  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 15 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 13 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Remorra

Mister Toes, Stinkyfriend, The Boy, Sweet Cuddlefuns, Mister Bellylove

Kitty Complexion:
sleepyvery active
not curiousvery curious
not vocalvery vocal

Quick Bio:

October 2nd 2001

Black and White

Having his fat pad massaged

Too much snuggling

Favorite Toy:
Thermonuclear Weapons

Favorite Nap Spot:
In his lair, his very dark lair

Favorite Food:
Anything in front of him

The uncatlike ability to land on his back. He can also sing.


Arrival Story:
I found a sweet little cat one hot summer day in 2001. I let her in and soon became her human. I found out she was with kitten and she gave birth to Remorra on October 2, 2001. I was present for the birth and held her paw through her labor. It was the happiest day of my life!

Remorra was born with Cerebellar Hypoplasia, a neurological disorder which causes him to wobble and fall down. I have much love for CH cats and for the people who love them.

Lives Remaining:
7 of 9

Forums Motto:
Carpe Cat Nip!

The Groups I'm In:
CH Kitties (Cerebellar Hypoplasia), Special Needs Cats, Tuxedo Cats

I've Been On Catster Since:
January 11th 2006 More than 11 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:

Meet my family

Meet my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends

Tian Tian! A quest for more food!

The Absence of Cod

March 29th 2006 6:44 am
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Looking back on my many meals, I find that my memories of them are not all pleasent. I recall the great chicken drought of 2002, the dry food craze that swept the nation in 2003 and who can forget the tuna depression that hit after my human lost the can opener? It seems that we are getting less and less of the foods we as superior creatures should be getting. Until the day comes when we can venture out and collect our own wild cans of tuna, we should have tuna and other stinky treats on demand at all costs.

But how can we make this happen? We have sung out hearts out with octaves so high and annoying that trips to the evil white coated lady were in order. We have clawed with disapproval at the thin flesh of the human hand. We have relieved ourselves outside of where it is natural in protest. All we get is a "bad kitty" and a pat on the head. How can our visions of feline harams with rivers of milk and seafood be recognized if all we are seen as is "cute"? We are not all cute. Remember we are predators and we have the right to have the food our ancestors so bravely killed before there was the technology of canned goods. There is an absence of cod in our lives, and this hurts when we need cod and other forms of editable spirituality in our lives so very much.

Not cutely,


Our stories and our meals: How it affects us all

March 19th 2006 5:48 am
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Not being of the polydactyl varity, I find it difficult to type my thoughts down at times. Sure, we all have the amazing gift of recalling the events in our lives in which we need to hold grudges, claw an enemy or just generaly be in a pissy mood. But how far can this get us when we can not tell our stories to other felines, and eventualy the world? As the human author Dorothy Allison has said "Tell your stories" and by this I believe she has means to catterwail at the top of our lungs with each tiny bit of disapprovement. Meow at the terrible epidemic of snuggle abuse. Claw and destroy human flesh at each meal that is not pure tuna and cream. By excersing these behaviors we can make our lives better, not just for one's own lives, but for the lives of all cats.

With love to the great Bastet,
Good luck and Good Tuna,


January 25th 2006 9:36 pm
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The night is long. I have the dry food to last until the great ball of fire makes the light come again. But the human I own worries that I might become too heavy and large. I know that she really worries about the day that I and the rest of feline kind take back the wordl to the way it once was. She feeds me less than I need to prevent this from occuring. It is shameful and undignified to be such a shining example of prefection when I can not control my own fate of when to feast, when to plan for the take over of humans and when I should get my dry baths (never).

I have sarificed my fangs for this human. In truth I have much like for the warmth she posseses in the cold winter months. Her hair is a wirey mess which is nice to chew on. She does not mind that I purr next to her as I plan her dimise.

From what I understand she did not kill me for my "weakness" as I was born. She loved me from birth and did not know that I was different from other cats. She never let me feel like I was any different than any other cat except when she calls me "her sweet little retard". I think that means she likes me. I like my human, but I will still eat her eyes if she dies.

Good Tuna to you all!


See all diary entries for Remorra