Meet Rosemary!
Name: Rosemary
Breed: Short Hair
Likes: Sitting in the lap or (especially) on the shoulder or draped around the neck of anyone who is even slightly tolerant of such intimacy; socializing with guests at parties while dodging errant feet; being brushed and brushed and brushed (did I mention being brushed?); having her whiskers stroked; lying in the sun under the orchids in the window especially when surrounded by her “treasures” (i.e., soft toys); her sitter and best friend Monika.
Dislikes: Pills; the carrying case (she’s a stay-at-home girl); the vacuum cleaner; most people food; food in general (but cream is a different story entirely and vanilla ice cream is without parallel!).
About Rosemary: Rosemary is an infinitely sweet, petite lady at six pounds, all black with a white chest and feet; especially endearing is the tiny white spot on her pert little nose. At 18, she still misses her litter mate who left us last year; double her size, but just as sweet, his name was Thyme (and, no, there isn’t a Parsley or Sage). Rosemary is playful and can still jump onto a very high bed to share a night’s rest; but, somehow, she manages to stretch out and fill more than her fair share of the real estate.
Rosemary is mischievous–hiding toys in my suitcase, pouncing on my elderly mother from a hiding place high on a bookcase in her youth, and always opening a cabinet at the vet’s to hide. She was once a skilled huntress and would have developed an extensive life list had I let her (which I didn’t after a stunning display of her skills with a clueless bird). Rosemary was a charmer when she was young, is a charmer in her golden years, and is loved by everyone she meets. People who believe cats are by nature aloof don’t believe Rosemary is a cat, but she is and she’s the best there is.