About Me

So, let me introduce myself. My name is Peggy. Not Peggy Sue, though I was born when that song was popular. Not Margaret with Peg or Peggy as a nickname, but actually, "legally", Peggy. No one uses my middle name so I won't even tell you what it is.

You will see me post a lot about cats. I am a cat mom. The village cat lady. Or probably only one of them as this village has more than it's fair share of cats it seems--but, as a teen-aged boy told me last summer when he stopped to pet one of our many cats, it's ok to be a cat lady.

I don't think anyone ever sets out to be a cat lady, it just sort of happens when you already have 5 family cats and move into a former foreclosure that sat empty for some length of time and, unbeknown to you and your husband (the cat dad), has become home to a colony of abandoned cats, their friends, and their offspring...

It's been said that someone in Catland has obviously set out a sign we can't see, labeling this property as "cat friendly". Even the large Border Collie mix we had when we moved here was cat friendly and did nothing to discourage the presence of the skeptics who soon realized he made a pretty good rug on chilly days and didn't mind their company while he was outside.

We've joked about having a cat portal in the yard since on occasion, someone has simply appeared out of nowhere-- not a cat we've seen before, passing by or stopping in for a bit, but an entirely new entity suddenly decides he or she lives here. Like the petite pastel calico who met my husband in the driveway after work late one night a couple years ago and ran inside the house with him. She stayed, was given the name Rainbow by our grand daughter, and joined the ranks of the spayed and neutered.

At the time of this writing, there are seventeen cats who call this their home base. There are fifteen cat children who are present, one who has gone AWOL all week, as they sometimes do when you allow them to come and go as they please, and one who is a regular visitor but still feral. He expects a dish of food at meal time but still will not permit even me to pet him. Once known as "scarecrow kitty" because of his unusual facial markings and tendency to run the minute anyone spoke to him, he has become Hank. I suppose I should add that one of the fifteen who has not gone AWOL is never allowed outside loose any more because once you've proved yourself three times to be an excellent tree climber-upper but extremely poor tree climber-downer, you must now stay indoors. Forever....

Meow... :)