Here’s my profile:

Name: Katze (Cat in German)

Pet Names: Katzelein, Lady, Lulu, Mausi (German pet name for a mouse), Süsselein (Sweetie in German), Keldon, Keluden, Keludi, Chajkuna (Pimple in Hebrew), Maschichuna (Stinky or Smelly Cat in Hebrew)

katze
On Heila’s bed, my favorite place (but not when she nearly kicks me off in her sleep…)
My sexy legs
My sexy legs

relax

What a boring newspaper
What a boring newspaper

how boring

Place of Birth: Alfei Menashe, Israel

Year of Birth: 1999

Mother: Sheleg (Snow in Hebrew)

Father: Unknown

Blood type: Blue

Religion: Jewish; secular or maybe even atheist, I haven’t made up my mind about that. I mean, God doesn’t seem to give a shit about my brothers and sisters struggling to survive in the streets. Hey, has anyone seen him? I want to talk to him. In person.

Dislikes: Cheap cat food, fish oil.

Likes: Expensive cat food, milk, cuddling when I feel like it, sleeping, and chasing after those stupid shoelaces that Heila and D. love pulling away from me because they know I cannot resist running after them. They really seem to believe that I think those laces are actually some live prey. How ridiculous. But it’s fun anyway. And, when they suddenly pull a lace in the air and I jump up to catch it and sometimes land back on my hind legs with my front paws in the air, they go: “Oh look at her, isn’t she sweet … how cute!” Good Lord, humans are strange creatures.

Vaccinations: Once, many years ago, I received the shots humans think we felines need to stay healthy: a shot against rabies and another three-in-one vaccine against other illnesses. I never forgot or forgave. The next time the vet came to our home to stick those needles into my delicate skin I simply flew out of the kitchen window, through the half-closed shutters and vanished for a while. Since then, no more shots for me. No one ever attempted to vaccinate me again.

Accidents: When you look at my photos you may get the impression that I have had an unsuccessful nose job.  Well, thanks, but no. Several years ago I had a severe car accident that smashed most of my face, and knocked out and broke a tooth or two. Heila was devastated. She wanted to help me and take me to the vet, but I felt I needed to be alone.I found a hiding place where no one bothered me. After about a week Heila caught a glimpse of me, in the distance, walking again but still shaky and my face distorted, making me look like a zombie. She jumped with joy. A few days later I returned home and she went out of her way to help me recover; wow did she spoil me! She bought me soft, luxury cat food because I could hardly bite or chew and she gave me creamy, white cheese; she carefully caressed me, and even lay down on the floor next to me, watching me cautiously attempt to eat. Yes, she truly loves me.

I love my human family, Heila and D. Yeah sure, they’re both a bit nuts; he has schizophrenia and she, well, she IS his mother… But then, what is normal anyway? And is being normal really that desirable? I just know that despite all the hardship in their life they laugh a lot. AND they really love me, they care for me, and they’re worried when I lose weight or don’t stop scratching my ears because of those nasty ear mites that drive me out of my mind. I admit that it really pisses me off when they trick me into letting them rub that medicine into the fur on my nape. But after a few days I always have to realize that it was for my own good: the mites, the fleas and even the worms that used to freeload in my intestines are all gone. What a relief. But please Heila, give it a rest with those drops, ok? I mean, thanks, and in my feline way I love you for caring, miau, but you know how I get all agitated when I suspect another of your well-meant doctor operations is under way…

Ah, one more thing: I noticed that they are adding something to my drinking water lately.  Don’t love it but maybe I’ll get used to it. It’s probably against my bad breath. They all the time make fun of that, holding their nose or waving their hand in front of their face as if fanning away the stench, and bursting into laughter at the same time. Ha ha, very funny. You think it doesn’t insult me when D. shouts “Gas masks, gas masks… quick!” when I yawn next to him; or when he says my breath smells like a leaking sewer pipe…. You think I don’t hear that? Well I do. And for your information, those killer bacteria in my mouth can be lethal. So watch it.

kish mein tuches

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