Miss Jackson Mrosla-Holman had a kinda puh-CARRY-us start, an, happily, is now queen of all she surveys.
Miss Jackson (her family calls her just Jackson) is a regal-looking, sub-STAN-shull (24.9-pound), probably mostly Maine Coon (a pet of the feline persuasion).
Her humans, Mom Josie an Dad Gerry, met me an my assistant at the door an we got all seated. Miss Jackson was reclining on the floor, big fluffy white front paws gracefully crossed. Her long, beauty-full coat was mostly gray with some snow-white swoops, an her long, fluffy gray pom-pom tail curled around her. (I sorta felt like I should bow.)
“Ah, Mr. Bonzo, welcome to my home. You’ve met Mom an Dad. They’re The Best! I, of course, am Jackson. Do have a seat. Can I offer you a wadder?”
“It’s a great pleasure, Miss Jackson,” I replied. “I am well hydrated, but thank you. I’m so eager to hear your tail.”
“Then I shall begin,” she said. An she did so.
“Although I have the most excellent home an Furever Famly, with everything I’ll EVER need, I did get off to a, well, harrowing start.
“It began back in twenny-twelve, when I was a kitten. (I’m 14 now.) You see, my Furever Mom-an-Dad are from a state called Minnie-SODA, which is way UP from here. They live inna town called Marine on St. Croix, because it’s by the St. Croix River, an also havva cabin right ON the river.
“So, this one day, Mom’s Dad, Grampa John, was doin’ some work in the cabin when he heard Strange Noises an, after searching all over, he discovered a mama cat and three kittens, including ME: I was the RUNT. Mr. John figured somebody probly just dropped us off. Anyway, he tried an tried to scoop up all four of us to SAVE us. Well, he finally scooped us all up ’cept for me. Cuz I got Very Scared an HID. He tried an tried, but he couldn’t grab me so, finally, he left with my Mom an two kittens but not me.
“When my future Mom found out one kitten was left buh-hind, she was Very, Very, Very Upset. She says she was be-SIDE herself, which I don’t understand, but it’s Very Bad. So (my future) Dad and Mom went back. Finally, Dad grabbed me when I popped out. Now I ree-lize it was the Best Thing that EVER happened to me. I wudda probly been a Total Goner. Somehow, I knew right away I’d found my Furever Famly. I started purring then an there. An I’m still purring.”
I was so swept up in Miss Jackson’s tail, I almost forgot to take notes. “Oh, Miss Jackson,” I exclaimed. “What a great tail!”
“It IS, indeed. An it took a while, then, Slowly but Shirley, I began to learn How To Be A House Cat. There WAS a lot to learn. I’d leap all the way to the top of the fridge an sit, which sometimes set off what’s called a MOE-shun de-tecktor, which made a lotta NOISE an probly IRKED Mom.
An Dad. They hadda have the MOE-shun thingy re-directed. Also, full disclosure, when I was still a kitten, Mom-an-Dad use to havva bird inna cage, which they put on top of the fridge so I wouldn’t be tempted.”
“Oooh, boy!” I mumbled.
“Yeah. Let’s just say my in-stinks kicked in. But it was just that one time. Anyway, now I’m too old to be jumpin’ all over the place like back then.”
“I hear ya,” I agreed, swiftly changin’ the subject. “So, how’d you get down here?”
“I became a Snowbirdcat. See Mom an Dad both really, really like Florida. And they’re both Cat Peeple (thank Garfield). Anyway, Dad also hadda Cat, Pixie Bob, who he called Bob, cuzza her bein’ a bobtail.
“At first, we weren’t sure about each other, but we ee-VEN-shully became Cuddle Buddies. But then, she hadda go to Cat Heaven. I still miss her.”
“I know that’s hard,” I sympathized, then inquired, “So, being a Snowebirdcat an all, do you enjoy travelling?”
“Oh, I DO. I’ve flown three trips already; First Class in my speshul container, beneath the seat, from Minny-APPLE-less to the Mouse Town. I mostly doze an purr. Dad sometimes worries cuz the O-FISH-ull Pet Weight Limit onna plane is 20 pounds, an sometimes I get to be a teensy bit more. But I’m Very Well Buh-haved, plus I exercise a lot buh-fore I fly (mostly chasin’ Geckos).”
“What’s your ti-pickle day like?”
“Oh, Mr. Bonzo, I have a new next-door naybor, Lily, who us to be an across-the-street naybor.
She’s a chuh-waa-waa mixture an sometimes gets to come in for a visit. She’s WAY Cool Catnip an about the same size as me. Probly littler, ackshully.
“I guess I should mention, I have what’s called Di-uh-BEE-dees, so Mom hasta give me two shots every day. I sometimes get sorta doze-y.
“Then, later, Mom an Dad usually watch TV. I plop onto Mom’s tummy an we watch movies. My faves are what humans call Rom-Coms, which, as close as I can figure, are usually really pretty an hansome humans likin’ each other, then some goofy things happen, then they get mad at each other, then they like each other again. An they usually smooch.
“Then it’s bedtime. I have a special ramp to help me get up on the bed. I curl up with Mom an go to sleep. THEN, promptly at midnight, I place my paw on Mom’s chin an meow: ‘Mom! (paw-pat); Mom! (paw-pat).’ I do the same thing at 2, an at 4! THEN, at 6 a.m. I jump down an loudly scratch on Mom’s mattress followed by several MRROWs (channeling my inner dog, if you will).
That’s when she finally gets up, makes coffee an feeds me, completing the Breakfast Alert Cycle. I’m sure she’s So Happy I am there to keep things on schedule.”
“I have no doubt, Miss Jackson,” I managed.
Headin’ home, I kept thinkin’ about her stories an how, once again, the Exactly Right cat (or dog, or other sorta pet) was able to find the Exactly Right human(s), even sometimes in spite of really pruh-CARRY-us circumstances. I love my job, gettin’ to meet so many of you pawsome pets, an hear your amazin’ tails.
Till next time,
Don’t Be Shy
We are always looking for pets with interesting stories. To set up an interview, email
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