Tabby Targaryen, first of his name… You know, I’ve often wondered how my tabby boy got his start. He was such a magnificent beast, such a unique creation under the stars.
I know a little. Like, I know he was a stray at one point, because a nice lady in our old neighborhood told me once that he found her one day. She said he was still a small kitten at the time. She was leaving bowls of food outside in her backyard for the neighborhood strays, and one day this little tabby came walking out of the brush toward the food. He was a little worse for wear, wearing an tight collar he’d clearly outgrown.
She removed the collar, gave him a once over, and let him eat his fill. He kept coming around after that, and it didn’t take her long to realize that he was a special guy with a one-of-a-kind personality.
Fast forward some months, or maybe a year, and Tabs, who was still a stray at the time, started exploring further and further around the neighborhood, wooing ladies and breaking hearts (like mine!).
We eventually became friends, but not before he’d already made a name for himself. Yup, before Tabs ever walked a runway, he’d already won the Kitty Super Bowl. In fact, he’d already retired from professional cat football.
Football was his first career, and it’s where he got introduced to big business and brand marketing.
By the time I came into his life, Tabs was already a successful kitty model specializing in athletic apparel and catalog work.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Rosie
Rosie’s origin story was, let’s just say…less dramatic, although not altogether bereft of intrigue.
I don’t know much about it, but I do know that she was something of a boss lady at her foster family’s house, especially when it came to the family’s dogs, and this makes a lot of sense to me based on how she acts outdoors.
I mean, Rosie Pose has two different personalities. Inside the house, she all purrs of lurvies, but outside when we go for her walks? She’s a tyrant! She growls, hisses and bares her claws any time she catches another cat’s scent.
She’s all business outside.
That cat does not mess around.
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,
Karen
