After Siouxsie and I settled our little dispute, things got much calmer in our little apartment. With our newfound understanding, it seemed as though our lives were forever changed for the better. But when a white car arrived at the farm in the deep of winter, there was no way I could have known it would bring a hurricane-sized cat-tastrophe with it.

Of course, I noticed that when the car arrived, some things changed right away. With the addition of four more people, there was even more barking and screaming coming from the big house – along with the wails and cries of human kittens and the endless yapping of some dog-like thing that was no bigger than Thomas.

With all the excitement, I guess it’s understandable that I missed the other new arrival.

But then one afternoon, Barking Man and Yallin’ Man (that was the new male human) were outdoors feeding the goats. They stopped for a quick smoking break and SHE came around the corner.

“Hey, Mista! Throw me somethin’!” the agouti-furred cat called, swishing her tail to the side and casting her rump provocatively into the air.

“Oh haah, Miz Kittih,” said Yallin’ Man as he reached down to pet the offending puss.

Barking Man said, “That cat’s in heat, you know. You’d better get her fixed before you’ve got a litter of kittens on your hands.”

“But Ah caint afford to do that,” Yallin’ Man said. “Ah haven’t been able to fahnd a job up here.”

The cat rolled around on a patch of dry ground with her tail whipping back and forth. “Mah honeypot’s on FAIIIIIIII-yaaaaah!” she cried.

“You should ask her,” Barking said, pointing to Mama’s apartment. “She loves cats, and she’ll be willing to help you do the responsible thing.”

Siouxsie uttered a grumble as she stared down at the tableau below. “Look at that little minx!” she sneered as the four-legged intruder continued her flirting.

Well, the caterwauling and carrying on only got worse from there. And sure enough, the Yallin’ family did discuss Miz Kitty’s delicate state with Mama, as well as the fact that they were at a loss as to how they were going to do what needed to be done.

Naturally, Mama, being who she is, told them she’d take care of it. I snickered as I listened in on Mama’s phone call to the vet’s office: that cat was gonna get shots, a checkup, FIV and leukemia test, and finally … a Spay!

“Nanny-nanny-boo-boo,” I sang to Miz Kitty the next day as she strutted around the yard. “I know something you don’t know!”

“Oh, really,” she said with a flick of her tail. “How special.”

I didn’t know how she managed to look down her nose at a cat sitting 10 feet above her!

But I was the one who had the last laugh when Mama swept Miz Kitty into a portable prison and whisked her off to Doctor Sarah.

“Well, that takes care of that,” Siouxsie said, cleaning and buffing her whiskers with a front paw. “We’ll never have to see that peanut-headed little hussy around here again!”

A few days later, I was rousted out of my afternoon nap by the sound of Siouxsie uttering her most menacing growl. “What is it?” I gasped.

“She’s back!” Siouxsie snapped. “That nasty, snooty little funny-furred freak of a cat is BACK!”

“Uh-oh,” Thomas said. “Mama’s bringing her here!”

“What?” I squeaked.

Sure enough, when Mama opened the door, she was carrying a crate full of sleepy Miz Kitty in one hand and a bunch of grocery bags in the other.

We all sat in front of the portable prison and glared at Miz Kitty while Mama turned on the heater. The still-sedated cat opened one eye and looked at us.

“Well, how do you do?” she said in a syrupy voice. “Ah’m Miz Katrina, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Thomas sat up straight. “Why madame, the pleasure is all mine,” he responded.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry you got Spayed. I know it hurts.”

“Cher, I survived the worst storm ever in history. I dang near blew away in all that rain and wind, and I can certainly survive a little ol’ spayin’.”

Siouxsie growled.

“Well, I dare say,” Miz Katrina, said. “That’s no way to greet a stranger.”

“This is my house, and I’m the Top Cat,” Siouxsie said. “As long as you remember that, we’ll get along just fine.”

That was about the last time any of us were on speaking terms.

There she is: the intruder herself! I'm still traumatized when I see pictures of her. *sniffle*

As soon as Miz Katrina recovered from her surgery, she started chasing me around the house and clawing at me! Of course, she never did it when Mama was home. All Mama ever saw of Miz Katrina was purrs and snuggles and Please and Thank You, Ma’am.

But Mama was no fool. She saw the tufts of fur left from the daily fights. She couldn’t help but notice the misery in Thomas’s eyes as Miz Katrina pushed him out of the way to demand petties. And as for me, I spent all my time hiding under the bed. I only came out to eat because Mama was around and I knew she’d protect me. When Mama was away, I couldn’t even go to the litterbox without Miz Katrina beating me up!

But I was so sad! I didn’t think I’d ever be able to snuggle with Mama again! I skulked around the edges of the room with my head low and my tail practically dragging on the ground.

Finally, entirely too many naps later, Mama decided she’d had it! It happened when I was just trying to get a drink of water and Miz Katrina pinned me to the floor and started raking at my tummy with her claws. Mama stomped her foot and smacked her hand on the table. “That! Is. Enough!” she yelled.

The four of us ran for the corners as the goats bleated their annoyance at their noisy upstairs neighbor.

“The four of you listen up. Especially you, Miz Katrina,” Mama said. “Katrina, I welcomed you into my home because you needed a place to stay. But I told you even as I was taking you home from the vet that you have to get along with Siouxsie, Thomas and Dahlia if you’re going to stay.”

“It’s been almost a month, and you’re still fighting with your hosts … and you need to drop that attitude right now!”

I slunk out from my corner and gave Mama’s boot a tentative head-rub.

Miz Katrina glared at me. “You go fais do-do, little girl,” she said. “Adults are talking.”

“Stop that!” Mama snapped, shaking her finger at Miz Katrina. “You’d better cool it, Miz Thang, because if I don’t see a big change in your attitude in the next few days, I’m going to have to find you a new home.”

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At last, it seemed that my ordeal with my spay surgery and the Cone of Shame was over. The fur on my tummy started to grow back, and as a result, those arctic winter drafts weren’t nearly as awful as they had been while I was naked. It was still pretty darn cold in our little house, though. There were plenty of mornings when there was ice at the edges of our water dish, even when Mama had left the portable fire going all night.

So, with that chill in the air, I began to think I should get more exercise — you know, to stay warm and stuff. And even cats can only sleep so many hours in a day.

I was at a loss about what to do, though. Our apartment was pretty small, so running giant laps was out. Thomas said he just wanted to snuggle in the purple fleece, and Siouxsie was even more boring; she just told me to shut up every time I asked her to play with me.

“You’re mean!” I told her when she shut me off yet another time. I lay down on my purple fleece blanket with a huge, long-suffering sigh and wondered what I was going to do with myself.

Of course, being a cat, the logical answer was “sleep.” And so I did. That is, until the sound of tools and an entirely too loud conversation between Barking and one of his friends woke me up again. I rolled over, buried my nose between my paws, and wished Mama would come home.

When next I woke up, my tail and backside felt especially warm. I lifted my head and saw Siouxsie sleeping right next to me! Color me shocked! I thought she hated me!

I started to stretch out a little bit and Siouxsie snapped to attention! “Cut it out, you nasty, poop-smelling little kitten!” she hissed.

“Well, if I smell so much like poo, why are you curled up next to me?” I asked.

“Shut up!” she growled, and gave me a half-hearted swat.

Then Thomas poked his head out from the warm little nest he’d created. “Siouxsie, be nice!” he said. “You too, Dahlia.”

“Fine,” I sighed.

“Whatever,” Siouxsie grumbled.

With a big “harrumph,” the two of us poked and prodded at each other as we pretended we were trying to get comfortable.

Then that great big old meanie of a cat managed to shove me out of the fleece nest and right off the couch! And when I hit the floor, my tail was right under me!

“Ouch!” I screamed. I jumped back up and gave Siouxsie a great big THWACK! The hollow sound of my paw smashing against her rib cage was so satisfying.

“Oh yeah? You think you can do me like that? Let’s take this to the floor,” she growled.

“Ladies, please,” Thomas said.

Look how scary Siouxsie is when she's in a fighting mood! *sniffle*

“Shut up!” Siouxsie told him as we both stood up on our rear legs, our tails thrashing. She leaped toward me and grappled me with her front paws, knocking me over on my side as she tried to get her teeth into my skin.

I raked her tummy with my back claws and she loosened her grip. We each ran for opposite ends of the apartment, leaving clumps of loose fur dancing in the drafts.

“You’re a horrible, horrible kitty!” I screamed, standing side-to, my ears flattened against my head and every single fur on my back and tail standing straight up. “You hurt me!”

“You hurt me, too!” she yelled back, adding a curse or two for good measure. “And how dare you have the gall to challenge me? I am the Top Cat here, and I will always be Top Cat!” Her tail twitched with barely controlled rage as she glared at me.

“I barely touched you!” I cried. “I didn’t even have my claws out!”

“It’s not an issue of claws or no-claws, young lady! It’s an issue of knowing your place. Just because you and Thomas get all snuggly and cuddly and gooshy,” she sneered, “doesn’t mean you’re any better than a stinky, puerile kitten.”

“What makes you think I want to take your place, anyway?” I sniffed.

“You always make the first grab for Mama’s lap. You always try to eat my food. You always take the most comfortable napping spots. Those are privileges that don’t! Belong! TO YOU!” Her tail rhythmically whacked against the bed leg as if to emphasize her points.

Thomas peeked out from his nest again, his eyes narrowed with alarm.

I couldn’t help it: my eyes started to leak and my tail tucked itself under my bottom. “I’m sorry, Siouxsie!” I cried. “I just didn’t know.”

Siouxsie’s back legs relaxed, her ears rotated back to their forward position, and she resumed a more normal stance. “Well, all right, then,” she said. “I suppose I couldn’t have expected you to know cat manners when you were raised by dogs.”

Well, now I was just scared. I didn’t want to get kicked out! I gave an involuntary sniffle and licked my lips to calm my anxiety.

Thomas jumped down and sat next to me. “It’s all right, Dahlia. This is just what cats do when it’s time to establish whose territory is whose.”

I didn’t dare to lick him back — not without Siouxsie’s blessing. “Is it OK if I cuddle with Thomas?” I asked.

“As long as I’m not there already.”

“Is it OK if I ask Mama to pet me?”

“Yes, but I get the first petties.”

“Is it OK if I sleep on the bed?”

“Of course! I don’t want you to freeze to death! But I curl up under the blankets next to Mama first — and then you and Thomas take your positions. And you’d better not walk on me while getting to your sleeping spot.”

“What about sun puddles?”

“You’re welcome to any sun puddle you see, as long as I’m not currently enjoying it.”

“So basically, it’s pretty much OK as long as you’re not there first, right?”

“Most of the time,” Siouxsie said. “But if you have even the slightest bit of doubt, you’d better ask first.”

“OK, I’ll do that. Can I ask you one tiny little favor – er, I mean, a tiny little indulgence?”

“You may ask, but I may choose not to indulge you.”

“Would you please stop calling me a nasty, poop-smelling kitten? It makes me sad.”

“I’ll try,” she said. “Now, let’s all three of us snuggle up for a nap. It’s getting dark and very, very cold, and my hips are starting to ache.”

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As I blissfully relived the thrills of Fangs Giving and Crisp Mouse, I noticed something was starting to change inside me.

It started small: just the tiniest little hint of a tingle in my tummy. I barely noticed at all, as a matter of fact, until Siouxsie started being even meaner than usual to me. I couldn’t even glance at her from across the room without being cussed at or threatened with a swat.

I mean, I’d gotten used to her regular kind of bad temper, but this was far beyond what she’d done before. Even Thomas was shocked at her nastiness.

Finally, after the fourth outburst in less than two naps since Mama had left for the day, he ran up to Siouxsie and gave her a sound thwack on the ear. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Get the kink out of your tail and shut up.”

Siouxsie’s eyes went wide. But after a moment’s shock, she hissed viciously and swung at Thomas. “What? You don’t notice it?” she snarled.

“Notice what?”

“Oh my Bast, you are so! Clueless!”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, what do you mean?” I asked.

“Shut up, you nasty, poop-smelling little kitten!” Siouxsie growled. “Thomas! You know just as well as I do that before we can get three more naps in, that feckless creature is going to be running around the house moaning ‘My honey pot’s on fire! My honey pot’s on fire!’ just like that little hussy Miss Katrina.”

“Oh,” Thomas said. He made a grimace and taste-smelled the air a few times. “I see what you mean.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?!?” I begged.

“All the nasty, half-feral tomcats from miles around are going to be flocking to our home, that’s what it means,” Siouxsie said.

“I still don’t get it.”

Suddenly the tingle in my tummy spread into my back and became itchy and hurty at the same time. It abated as quickly as it came, but then I got the urge to lick my bottom even though I hadn’t gone to the litterbox recently.

“Will one of you please tell me what all the fuss is about?” Dahlia cried.

Thomas sat down next to me and gave me a quick lick on the ear. It gave me an entirely unusual frisson of … a feeling I just couldn’t describe. “Come up on the cat tree with me, darling. It’s time for us to have a talk.”

I settled down next to him, flank to flank, and looked out the window as fresh-falling snowflakes danced in the wind.

What? You mean I've got a heater inside me?!?!

“So,” Thomas said, “here’s what Siouxsie is all upset about: You’ve reached, um, a certain age. And when girl cats reach that certain age, a heater goes on inside them. That heater makes them act all crazy and funny until it goes off again.”

“Is that true? How do you know?”

“My sisters told me all about it,” Thomas said.

“I’m glad I have a heater. It’s cold in here!”

“But the unfortunate thing about your heater is that you can’t turn it off when you’re warm enough. It stays on until you get so hot that you need a boy cat to turn it off for you.”

“Could you turn off my heater if I get too hot?”

“Well … no,” Thomas said. “I’m noodered, which means I can’t turn off heaters anymore.”

“I’ll share my heat with you, Thomas. And Siouxsie too, even though she’s being so mean to me.”

“Oh, hush your silly kitten mouth!” Siouxsie said. “Besides, Mama’s gonna notice you’re In Heat too, and she’s gonna get you spayed.”

“What’s a spade for?” I asked. “Will it help me turn my heater off if I get too warm?”

“Oh, it’ll turn your ‘heater’ off, all right,” Siouxsie said. “You can count on that!”

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As the days continued to get colder, Thomas and I kept snuggling together as our undercoats grew in and finally started to protect us from the increasing chill in the air.

Even though Siouxsie never snuggled with us, she kept herself warm in her own way: when she napped, she burrowed under the covers of Mama’s bed and curled herself up on a nice, warm, soft pillow. This made her a lot nicer because her hips hurt less when she was warm. Sometimes she even let me get near her — as long as I stayed on top of the covers, that is.

Then, one weekend (Thomas taught me that word; he said that’s what you call the times when Mama was home all day for a couple of days in a row), Mama started moving the furniture around. She went out into the Back Room and came back with bags full of weird plastic-like stuff and rags, and then she opened the little vent under one of the windows.

“Why is she opening those?” I asked Thomas. “It’s freezing!”

“Just wait and see,” he said.

Mama started stuffing plastic stuff and rags into the vent holes. Then when she was done, she closed the vent cover back up and put towels over it.

“Hey, the wind isn’t blowing so hard through those holes anymore,” I said.

“That’s right. She’s trying to get this place as tight as she can.”

Mama went to the other window, the one by the bed, and repeated the procedure. After she finished, she hung two big blankets over the window and secured them with thumbtacks and nails.

“There goes my favorite sun puddle,” Siouxsie said with a long-suffering sigh. She stretched and tucked herself back under the blankets.

“I’m sorry, Siouxsie,” Mama said. I’d like to have light and sunshine, too. But I’d freeze to death if I left that window uncovered.”

I have to admit that once Mama finished buttoning up our little apartment as best she could, the tiny heaters did do a better job of taking the chill out of the air.

Then we heard a familiar sound. I jumped up onto the kitty condo, which was by the window that still let light in, and saw Barking driving his growling tractor up the driveway. He parked it next to Mama’s car, hopped off, and clomp-clomp-clomped up the stairs. He threw the door open and said to Mama, “Are you ready?”

“Sure enough,” she said as she pulled on her wool coat, bright-orange hat, and leather gloves. They tromped back down to the ground and walked together back around and behind the house.

For hours, I heard mechanical grrang-grrrrang-grrrrrannngggg-ang-angggg noises and thump-splinter, thump-splinter sounds and clickety-clackety-clop, clickety-clackety-clop noises. The dogs barked and whined as the grrang-grrranging and thump-splintering and clickety-clackety-clopping went on and on. Every once in a while a chicken would come running around the corner with her wings flapping, yelling “Bug-bug-bug-baDOOOG!”

I was dying of curiosity! What was going on out there?

Well, finally Mama came back up the stairs. As soon as she opened the door, I ran out between her legs, down the stairs, and around the corner. There I saw Barking and Screaming sitting down on tree stumps with cups of coffee — and a giant pile of tree parts! Apparently Mama and Barking and Screaming had been breaking trees and stacking them in long, neat rows. There were still a lot of broken tree parts in the willy-nilly pile on the ground, but it sure looked like they’d done a lot of work so far.

Mama rejoined Barking and Screaming and took a long sip of coffee from her steaming cup. “They say we’re going to get eight to 10 inches,” Barking said. “We’ve got to finish this up today if we want to be able to find this wood by tomorrow evening.”

“Well, I guess we’d better get back on it,” Mama said.

“I’m going to put the roast in the oven and then I’ll be back out to join you,” Screaming said. She got up stiffly and walked into the house, where she was greeted by fevered barking. “Shut up, Dougal!” Barking barked. “Dumb-ass dog.” He put his gloves on, set a tree part on the stump where he’d been sitting, picked up a giant metal wedge attached to a long handle, and whacked the tree part with it. The log broke into three pieces that went flying off in three different directions — and one of them was coming right at me! Oh, so that’s what makes those thump-splinter noises! I thought as I ran for my life.

I looked back to see Mama picking up big armfuls of broken tree parts and setting them on top of a half-built stack.

Mama came back inside a while later and put some kibble into our dishes, and then she left again. She didn’t come back again until several hours later. And when she did, she smelled like wine and meat and she was acting kind of silly.

She put her bed-fur on and climbed under the covers, and we all snuggled up next to her with a happy purr.

Well, the next morning I woke up as soon as it was light out. I made my rounds quickly and when I got to the window I stopped and stared.

There were fluffy white things falling out of the sky!

“Thomas! Thomas!” I said. “Look outside!”

“Go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thomaaaaasss!” I cried. “Come oooonnn!”

“You come on,” he said. “Come on back to bed.”

But I couldn’t go back to sleep now. This was just too weird and amazing! I hopped up on the bed and trilled in Mama’s ear.

She didn’t seem to hear me, so I trilled a little bit louder. Still no response.

Well, I thought, I guess this is going to require more extreme measures.

I trilled and poked her face with my claws. Gently, of course.

“Dahlia,” she mumbled. “Come on, it’s the weekend!”

I trilled and poked her harder. She pushed my paw away, so I poked her hand.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said. With a sigh, she sat up and pulled the covers away, being careful not to disturb Siouxsie, of course. Once she got her robe and slippers on, I trotted to the window and did my cutest sashay, waving my tail in the air and uttering my most persuasive trill.

Mama! What's that white stuff?!?!

As soon as I was finished eating, I ran to the door and rubbed my flank against it. Mama obediently opened it and Thomas and I trotted down the stairs.

Ooh, I danced and played and tried as hard as I could to catch the snow in my paws. But every time I got ahold of a snowflake, it turned into water before I could eat it. “That’s not fair,” I said. And still I tried and tried … until I realized that my whole head and back were covered with snow that was turning into water and making me feel quite chilly.

I shook off as much of it as I could, and then I ran back up the stairs and told Mama I wanted to come in. Being the good Mama she is, she opened the door right away. As soon as she sat down, I jumped into her lap and used her robe to wipe most of the wetness off my fur.

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