The Cats
Who Own Me

Sigh burrowing into sheets. Illustration by Jym Dyer.

Jym and Jackson Jackson Jackson likes to climb onto my head, which is why I created the little animation on the left.

He was the largest of four black kittens found in an abandoned car in Omaha, Nebraska. A rescuer brought the kittens downtown, where we met them and also met a remarkable woman named Connie Davis. An expert cat-rescuer, she nursed the kittens back to health and socialized them well, before handing them over to us.

One kitten was the most gregarious, so he was the first to need a name. Connie and her son named him Jackson (Jack for short), after the location where we'd all met: Jackson Street. She also made us a little photo album of the kittens' early weeks, and birthday cards, which is where I got these pictures:

The 4 kitties: Jackson, Angel, Moon, and Emma. Photo by Connie Davis. The four kitties glommed together like a single organism.
The 4 kitties go for a buggy ride. Photo by Connie Davis. Jackson looks up at the camera as his three siblings kick back for a buggy ride.
Jackson's 3 month birthday. Photo/card by Connie Davis. Jackson at 3 months having a happy birthday!

The other kitties acquired names: Angel, Moon, and Emma. Jackson enjoyed pouncing on them frequently. He's turned out to be a charming troublemaker who generally wreaks havoc. Since he takes more attention than the other three put together, they remained at their happy home in Omaha while Jackson was sent off to live in the big city with me.

Jackson's ladder.He likes to climb things. I think he's plotting to climb the Empire State Building and swat at planes.Jackson's lofty ambitions.

Jackson, Age 1, Closeup He's talkative and has angular features (what the experts call a "foreign" face shape), so he may be partly Siamese. As my other part-Siamese took to the leash, I've been trying to take him out walking on a leash. He seems to like it -- until a car drives by.

Since he has a healthy distrust of cars, I've been trying to interest him in bikes (and bikers):

I've let the cat out of the (messenger) bag.
Pouncing on visitors is a favorite hobby.

Two of his siblings (aged 1 year, 3 months) came to visit:

Emerging from their carriers.

Callia (age 2) and Jackson (age 1). Only my niece Callia (at age two) has enough energy to keep up with him. She's become adept with cat toys.

My group home in San Francisco is the upstairs of the House of Things, which might more accurately be called a House of Cats (and maybe a few people). Muffy and Adam have two cats who live upstairs with us:

 ·  Chloe is a sweet, sweet kitty. A love sponge. She likes to sleep in her little treehouse.
 ·  Steve is a kitten so new he doesn't have his own web page yet. He's interested in my suitcase, my laptop, and, well, everything. He is a kitten, after all!
 ·  Lily is even newer. No photos yet.

Chloe and her siblings became greeting card stars! (Fortunately the greeting card company didn't find out about their shocking early careers -- of course the names and younger birthdates are faked).

There are two more cats downstairs, but ever since we installed the electric fence, I don't see them much.

The Cats Who've Owned Me also have a web page.

"To escort a cat on a leash is against the nature of the cat."
    --Adlai Stevenson