Mrs. Bentley works at Louisiana Loom Works in New Orleans, Louisiana. My mum met her a couple of years ago at teh store where Mrs. Bentley works.
Mrs. Bentley is a flame point siamese cat who was rescued nine years ago. Well, it’ll be nine years tomorrow or in the next few days, as she was rescued in the flood waters of Hurricane Katrina. She had been swimming for a long, long time when she wasn’t able to swim anymoar and slipped underwater.
Luckily for her, a man in a canoe was floating nearby. He saw her swimming, and moar importantly, saw her go under. He reached into teh water and felt around until he grabbed onto something. That something was Mrs. Bentley’s tail.
Mrs. Bentley made her way to teh V-E-T, then home with a stately senior Lady. Not long after, Mrs Bentley felt she needed to get out of teh house and get a job. Since her housemate spent a lot of time at teh store and there were other working cats in residence, it was a great fit.
Louisiana Loom Works is located on Chartres Street in the French Quarter. The artists employ several kittehs for rodent control and public relations.
Mrs. Bentley ❤
I got moo garrison cap for CatScouts. I think it looks quite… dapper.
I live wif my biological mommacat and poppacat, Chloe and Indy. We were born feral. Also living wif us are two other kittehs from our colony, Pixel and Maya. Maya is Pixel’s mommacat. It took us a couple of years to get to know and trust our human typist, mum Melissa. We all came to live inside when one of teh neighbors started trapping and killing cats in the neighborhood. That neighbor didn’t care that we were all eartipped and part of a managed colony, or that we provided benefishal sevices to the neighborhood.
Chloe has a permanent limp from a previously sprained leg and she’s allergic to people. Indy loves pink colored toys and his unicorn blanket. They’re both super snuggly.
Maisy is a “foster failure”; she never made it out of our foster home. She fit in so well that we decided to make her a permanent addishun. She’s a self-black Maine Coon who likes to play Thundering Herd of Elephants up and down the stairs wif me in the mornings. She also lubs the tummy rubs!
Cliff is teh resident old mancat. He has been has been wif mum a long time, ever since she rescued him from the outside. He wasn’t born feral but was thrown away by people who didn’t want him anymore. He has lingering anxiety issues from his abandonment. He also has FIC (part of FLUTD umbrella diagnosis). He’s equal parts brilliant and dense – he knows several tricks and responds to all of mum’s vocal commands… and he eats dirt. We like to sleep in sun puddles together.
Mum has learned a lot about feline health because of Cliff’s health issues. She spent the past five years researching FIC, stress, and cat food, and the relation of teh three to each other and to our health.
Our current foster is LittleLove. She hates most cats and people – except for Indy and mumma. Needless to say, she’s a very tough cat to place and is most likely going to stay wif us permanently.
My feral friend is Thistle. I like to bump heads wif her through the patio screen door. She got loose in our house in July and it took mum several days to get her re-trapped. There are a few moar ferals but they don’t come around regularly enough for me to get to know them.
I has a sad regarding the CatScouts third quest. I missed the best parts – the hiking wif everyone and the Snipe hunt wif the KitScouts – due to last minnit schedule conflicts. I know fings happen and fings change… but other peepul need to be flexible wif their plans, too. 😡
I already know I’ll be travelling on teh day of teh CatScout Jamboree, so please to keep your paws crossed that teh airplane has teh wifi.
And now, to get past teh sads, i’m reading teh Quest 3 Groop Pages. They are hilarious! What a fun and funny bunch of Scouts. I kant beleeve Buckaroo Foobar got DEMERITS! Hmmm… good fing he’s not name Buckaroo SNAFOO.
Dat’s all I got for now.
I was on a CatScout quest dis weekend. Quests are teh best. We did a lot of climbing and hiking and campfiring and s’mores making. Riding teh Magick Bus home from teh Quest was PAWSUM! Mah paws were tired from hiking and mah sides were tired from laffing. I just lubs all teh different personalities in mah Troop.
Hummingburd is back.
She taunts me wif her zip- zip-
zipping in teh sky.
Back in 2010 I went away on a misshun. It started May 25 wif a beeg fight wif JoeGrey. And then I went undercover. Mum looked for me a lot, but I had work. to. do.
Finally, I was able to come home. I didn’t tell her much about teh misshun – it’s classified – but we still celebrate August 8th every year. She doesn’t hold my silence against me. She’s cool like dat.
On August 8th, four years ago, I strolled up onto teh patio like I always did… like nuffing was wrong. I was nearly 3 pounds lighter. I didn’t have much fat before, but it was nearly all gone. Even my skin was stretched tightly across my body. I ate well and was a little dehydrated, but nuffing more than a day or two in teh 90 degree heat wifout regular access to water would cause. I wasn’t missing any teeth or claws, my whiskers weren’t broken off, and my ears weren’t torn or dirty. Victory was mine.
Though teh victory was mine and teh misshun was successful, I’m happy to call mahself a retired field agent. Now teh only fing I command is teh COUCH!