Riley Verses The... Fairy Tale

My dahhhl-ing readers... All good things must come to an end... And this will be my final blog post... I know... I know!!! You want more... Of course you do.... I am, quite frankly, an amazing kitty-boy... But the time has come to bid adieu...

After reflecting these past couple of weeks and reading my blog from the beginning, I realized I left something out... Every good fairy tale (and I have certainly lived like Prince Charming the past number of years...) starts with, "Once Upon a Time..." and ends with, "And they lived happily ever after..." You see, my devoted fans... My blog started with the, "happily ever after..." part... And it was a fantastic, (nearly) 7 year run before, "The End" caught up with me... But I feel that you should know my fairy tale... since you have already laughed and loved with me the second half of my life...

Once Upon a Time...

In a manger (okay, if you have to be picky, it was a garage... not a huge difference... poetic license people, ever heard of it??? Now, if you don't mind... can I continue??? Fabulous...) far, far away (because Vermont's motto is, "You can't get the-ah from he-ah" and to translate to proper English, "You can't get there from here." And I assure you, you can't....), a devastatingly handsome little Siamese Prince was born... Three wise kitties... following the one street light in town... presented me with gifts... Gold, catnip mice and purrs... (bling, toys and well wishes...). I was bestowed with the name... Buzzella...

The next eight weeks went by in a blur... I grew stronger, more handsome and more regal by the second... Until this old lady picked me up, tearing me from my kitty mommy and dragged me home with her... I doth protested loudly, but I do believe her hearing aid was turned off that day... I was ignored... IGNORED! Can you believe that?!?!? Ignored... I knew this was not a good sign... And then we arrived home...

The Third Circle of Hell - as described by Dante...

This Crazy Lady should be on an episode of Hoarders! I was not meant to live among these peasants! I am ROYALTY! Look at those baby blues... that stature... I see no commonality between them and me! I was told they would be my step-siblings... Yes, "step," I'd like to step all over them... Hrmph...

And the horror of it all... I had to share the food dish... the water dish... beds... PETTING TIME!!! and *gasp* the litter boxes... Of all the indignities... And of course, due to my extraordinary breeding, I was polite... "Excuse me, may I have a turn eating?" was responded to with hisses and growls... I do believe this was where I began my loathing of most food... A bite of salmon tidbits was not worth the smacks to my perfectly beautiful face... so I would wait until the least desirable of the foods would come out... my heavenly turkey entree... And do you think my exceptional manners brought extra attention? Indeed not! But EXTRA chores! I never made a mess... but I was constantly being told to clean them up... And to help out the bazillion "siblings" that I had... "Buzzella, your sissy needs her mousey toy... bring it to her..." "Buzzella, your brother needs more vitamin D, stop hogging the window seat..." "Buzzella! Buzzella! Buzzella!" Seriously people... someone was going to get slapped!

With all the constant noise, I found my voice... During the loudest times (typically meal time) I worked on my command voice... deep from the diaphragm... I had requested a camo jacket and combat boots, but was only met with an icy glare from the Cat Lady... So, I worked with what I had...

can you see me now???

Once I realized I had a harmonious tenor voice, I used it ALL the time... I told the Cat Lady of my day... the indignities I suffered... the toys I lost to the bullies... how I would scramble for the turkey... and how I worked on my quads to jump higher... and get above it all... where I should be... but she didn't listen... didn't respond... just ignored me and petted the others... I know it wasn't right of me... but I became jealous... When I finally got a chance to be petted... I growled, hissed and batted at anything that tried to get between me and the Cat Lady... And I was then labeled... Buzzella the nuisance...

I endured this inhumane and cruel environment for about seven years... Then one particularly bright and beautiful November day... I met my fairy god-mother (I believe she said her name was, Withanimal Control). She was my angel in disguise... She put me in a tiny box and transported me to another place with a lot of other felines... but we at least all had our own little cages... so I was not forced to socialize among them... (I can now certainly sympathize with Waity -Kate... Miss Duchess...). I was then transferred to a high traffic store... People were constantly coming and going... Some to come in and glance at all the fabulous kitties... and others were there just to buy things, completely ignoring the insane amount of cuteness behind the glassed wall...

After over a month in my new residence... time and time again I was passed over for the "cute" little kittens... I was too old... too mature... not frisky enough... I wasn't a kitten anymore... and no one wanted me... It was still better than the Cat Lady's house... but still... Then, right around Christmas time, in walked this Eskimo-like person... bundled from head to toe... I couldn't even see its face... Slowly the mittens, the scarf, the hood were removed.... and out popped this chubby little profile with ringlets framing her face... I thought to myself, for what seemed to be the 100th time that day... "Great, another rejection over a kitten," since I was sharing this apt. complex with three lovely, playful, non-stop squeakers... I sadly said, "hello miss and how are you today?" as she passed... Except, she didn't pass?!?!?! She stopped! Right in front of MY CAGE! She placed one of her newly un-mittened hands up to the cage door and said, "Hello pretty... um... BOY! Why in the world would someone give you up???" I was so excited to have someone pay attention, I nearly got my nose stuck in between the bars squishing my face into her open palm... One of the people that were usually there, came over and asked if this Curly-locked lady wanted the cage opened... and... are you sitting down???

She did!

And out I jumped, right into her arms... I licked her chin raw in under 30 seconds (a personal best for me... thank you... thank you... please hold your applause...). She read my name card, "Buzz" (apparently they shortened my name for me... >^.-<) aloud and shook her head... "Oh no... my last little girl had the Life of Riley... so you, my little Prince Charming, will be known as Riley from here on out..." 

And from that day forward, Riley was the one and only Prince in the castle that they shared overlooking the city below (as it should be... the peasants!)...

And They Lived Happily Ever After...

Curled up under the blankets with Mom...

Mommy and Me...

The End.

~R

P.S. Riley, the beloved author of this blog... was diagnosed with lymphoma in September 2014... He put up a valiant fight... but could only hold back the inevitable for so long... Only the good die young... RIP my little angel boy... 04/01/01 - 10/06/14...