Sit, Stay, Speak! Where South Florida talks pets | Sun-Sentinel Blogs

People who don’t know cats sometimes say they all seem the same. But anyone who lives with cats can tell you that’s sure not true.

Here’s a quick introduction to my two kitties, since you’ll be hearing a lot more about them than me in this blog. I promise, I will subject you to this only once.

Dolan
Nicknames: Fat Boy, The Best Boy Cat in Fort Lauderdale

His back story: I stumbled across Dolan nine years ago while making repeat visits to Broward County’s main animal shelter, looking for a friend’s lost cat. His cage tag said his owner had gone into a nursing home – apparently, no one in the family had stepped up. I was a goner, since I write about aging issues. Plus Dolan had one paw through death’s doorway, given he had been at the shelter awhile and was an 3-year-old adult, far less adoptable than a kitten. Dolan clearly had been well-loved and has the sweetest nature. Wish his owner could know his pet’s story had a happy ending.

His look: A tortoise-shell tri-colored tabby, Maine coon mix. Think big hair, big tail, big feet. Looks like a walking fuzzy bed pillow.
Hobbies: Eating, figuring out how to get more to eat, lap hopping at parties, over grooming.
Theme song: “Food, Glorious Food.”

Frances Jeanne
Nickname: Hurricane Girl (named for two 2004 storms)

Her back story: I started agitating for a feline “little sister” about four years ago, after husband David and I came home from a trip and found Dolan hoarse from too much lonely meowing. Then a notice went up on the office bulletin board. A co-worker had rescued a small, young cat from under his house, where she had spent Hurricane Frances crying and terrified. I zipped over to check her out; the little Hurricane Girl purred and stretched herself out like a rubber band for some tummy rubs. Turns out it was an act. Once she got into her new home, she terrorized Dolan, even though she was on his turf and less than half his size. She lets us know, with little reminder nips, that she does NOT: 1.) want to be picked up; 2.) petted, except when she feels like it; and 3.) go to the vet again, ever, for any reason.

Her look: Franny is what’s called a “tuxedo cat:” glossy black with a white chest, paws, muzzle and whiskers. Unlike Dolan, she always looks snazzy even though she spends a lot less time on her appearance. Her muzzle markings also are slightly askew, giving her that “she’s so unusual” appeal
of a gap-toothed supermodel.

Hobbies: Pretending to bite you, patrolling the property from inside the house, kicking butt.
Theme song: “I Hate Myself for Loving You.”