Ladies and gentlemen ...
Age: Uncertain. Probably born in March or April of 2002
Type/coloring: Tortoiseshell, with a tiny white patch that
showed up after her 'spay shave' grew back. Who knew?
Circumstances: Made the 'mistake' of wandering onto the patio at a chicken wing
restaurant the night before we went to interview with the foster to see about adopting
Max. I wanted to get her inoculated and spayed, then put her in the fostering
program at SICSA. But the more we thought and talked about all the things that can
happen to cats adopted by even the most wholeheartedly well-meaning adopters, and the more
we got to watch Squeek (who was called "Sam" for about five minutes, because we
kind of knew right away the dog's name was Max, and we used to like the old cartoon
Sam and Max) beat
the living daylights out of Gord, the less like a Sam she seemed. The first time one
of us said "Squeak, I tell you! Squeak!" (imitating yet another cartoon we
both liked, Ren and Stimpy), and she did, we decided it might as well be her name. Lucky us --
usually cats don't tell you their names so quickly. Only Tink made it fairly clear
she didn't care if we called her Tink or, for that matter, thought she smelled bad.
It was almost three months before we figured out Doodle's name wasn't Punk, and about a
month and a half before Gord's name seemed more appropriate.
She doesn't take up much space.
She doesn't eat very much. (Okay, that's changed a little, but she's
still miraculously svelte for the cats in this household.)
She likes all the toys the other cats are bored with.
She even thinks Max's tail is a toy.
She's insane. I don't know -- I'd originally shucked it off to her
being a six-month-old kitten, but I don't think she's going to 'grow out of
it' any more than Doodle did.
She, like Doodle, can't meow properly.
She plays with the cursor on the computer, once in a while.
She is virtually impossible to photograph well, because she's so dark.
She likes to hide in cardboard boxes and paper bags. Especially Trader
The plastic bags are tryin' to kill her, so she has to get them first.
So are all the toys.
So is Gord, apparently, although I don't think he knows it yet.
Tink probably is, but Squeek hasn't quite figured that part out yet.
Rough morning at the vet (okay, not really). She's an
Squeek is going to be a pocket monster.
Doodle is small, but even she's topped out at about eight and a half pounds.
So far, Squeek's put on less than a pound. She eats plenty, but at this point, she
still spends so much time running around, I'm not sure she's ever going to be much
bigger. I guess it doesn't really matter -- it doesn't seem to bother her.
Besides, the first time she tries to crawl under the entertainment unit in the family room
and either can't get all the way under or gets her butt stuck, we're probably going to
have to bury her, anyway.
Update -- Squeek is taller than Doodle and now
outweighs her by about half a pound. She's turned into a rather pretty
cat, though I wouldn't have bet you a nickel she would.
You will be assimilated
Maybe the green glare will
assimilate you more effectively.
In our latest 'Kitty Cat Comparo,' we have the 1997 Tink
versus the 2002 Squeek. Clearly, the Tink is a beefier and more
muscular model, but the Squeek is nicely outfitted and can turn on a dime!
If speed and economy are your goals, you can't go wrong with a Squeek; if
it's plushy luxury you want, though, you'll have to look at the Tink.