Scram Gives Thanks

They call me Scrammie.  Or Scrammers or Scrambler. Dad calls me Noggin cuz he says I have a giant head. I don't know why he would think that.

Maybe I have grown into my head since I'm not starving any more. When they first brought me inside the house, I was very tired and full of medicine and slept so much that my new mom got worried. When the medicine stopped, I started to explore and find my place in the family.

I've lived here 3 months now. I don't remember anything about my life before this place. I get scratched and tickled all the time! At first I wasn't sure they were going to keep me cuz of all the skitters. I had a lot of spooky stuff in my belly, and even though they gave me special food and I put the skitters in the thing they call "litter," it was touch-and-go for a while. My crippled leg doesn't let me squat real good, so sometimes the skitters overshoot the target. But anyway, my leg will be crippled for always, but my skitters are gone. The lady in the lab coat says my leg is broken at the hip and something about my knee being torn in two. She told mom the leg it will heal a little over time, but at the wrong angles. The lady in the lab coat says she could break it again and make it heal right, but mom says since I am not in pain anymore, we should leave it alone. I am okay being gimp. The only problem is that I can't use my crippled leg to scratch my ear. When I try to scratch, my foot just flops around and scratches the air. That makes me crazy. But I can hop real good!!! I am fast when I chase the laser light, and I have real toys.

The other cat, Moby - he's okay. He is 16 and the lady in the lab coat said I am 4 or 5 years old. Anyway, I told Moby I was sorry for giving him some of my fleas. But the fleas are all fixed now. Mostly Moby ignores me but I try to cuddle sometimes.

Moby and I unite together when it comes to food. We scheme to look pathetic so we can get kibble. We like to get kibble any time we can, and we like to leave crumbs all over the kitchen floor. Moby is also helping me learn how to use the fancy little door cut into the big human door that leads to the litter, but I'm kind of scared of it. Mommy took the flappy thing off, so that helps me be brave. Moby is so fat he can barely squeeze through the little hole.

My favorite places to be are either on dad's side of the bed, or on mom's red reading chair. From the red chair, I can look out the high window at the bird feeders and see into the woods and be so thankful that I am safe inside and not out there in survival mode. I am thankful that I get tickled in places I can't scratch and thankful to be skitter-free. I am thankful for mom and dad. It's a season for thanks. I love it here!