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Coloration: Black
Likes: Playing with all his toys, sleeping with his dog-brother, Tiger, snuggling, singing cat opera, sneaking and drinking coffee out of any available cup, addicted to the scent of Vicks Vapo-Rub and Mentholatum Ointment.
Pet-Peeves: The evil coffee grinder, company coming to visit, our old cockapoo, Carmen, who gets on his nerves, the scent of orange peel (makes him sneeze.)
Favorite Toy: His feathered cat teaser, his pink teddy bear, and Tiger's toilet paper roll.
Favorite Nap Spot: The bathroom sink, or anywhere his dog-brother Tiger sleeps.
Favorite Food: Tiger's food: Purina One Senior Formula. Tree Frog will eat cat food when he has to.
Skills: Singing, pushing his stool in front of the T.V., toilet paper rolling the living room.
Dwells:
indoors
Arrival Story: Tree Frog's mother, Ziyal, had been abused, including having one eye put out. She took refuge with us, but wouldn't ever come inside. She would rub against us and let us pet her, but never let us pick her up. She became pregnant by Prophet, our diagonal neighbor's cat. We could tell because both kittens have his coloring, including his g-string patch! Ziyal died before her kittens were weaned, so I took over as Mom, with some help from Mrs. Hudson, the Queen of the Outside Cats, who taught them to hunt, protected them, and slept with them at night. The kittens, Tree Frog and Scrappy, both have grown into gorgeous cats. Scrappy refuses to live inside, but Tree Frog knew what a good thing it was to be a couch kitty and moved right in.
Lives Remaining: 8 of 9
Forums Motto: Always steal Daddy's place on the couch.
The Groups I'm In: ♥♥♥*~♥~*Luvers of C@ts & Dogs*~♥~*♥♥♥, ♥♥♥Love of Pups N Cats♥♥♥, Black Cats Crossing our Paths, Fancypants Cafe, C & D CRUISE LINE, Furry Short Stories, Heart and Soul, Kitties Who Need Friends, light a candle...., P*I*F (Paw it Forward), Pawmark Greeting Card Shoppe, The Snazzy Salon, Woof A Holiday, Yang's Place: Don't Litter., ~ Friends Of Emma ~, ~Furiends Furever~
Dear me. My biological father, Prophet, is up a tree. Mrs. Hudson, in a horrendous temper, chased him up there. Now, in addition to the public humiliation, we must all deal with the nerve-wracking fact that my father refuses to come down. It's 10:44 as I meow this, and when I look out the window, I can see my poor father's eyes, high in the walnut tree. Whatever shall he do?
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