All About Bandit

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Bandit The name's Bandit. Misha calls me strange names, like Bandito-quite-neato-dorito-a frito... etc. etc. I only put up with it becawse she's a gud hoomin.

I'm not sure how old I am. The vet thinks I'm 10 or 12; sownds gud enough for me. I look Siamese, so they say I am, even if I'm not. I don't kno. I showed up heer severul yeers back. I think it was 1990. I just wandured arownd the neighburhud, lookin for food and attenshun. By the time I fownd Misha, I was pretty hungry, an pretty lonely. Yu cud see my ribs, almost, an I was reely light. So, even tho she wasn't spost to have anuther cat, she snuk food an water to me, an gave me lots of attenshun. Finally she convinst her mom an dad that I was abandund, an needed a home. She thot abowt callin me Snickerdoodle for a wile (what a horrid name for me) but desided on Bandit, becawse I hav a mask. And the uther reason...

I LUV to sit in a box. Any box. Cardbord is best, but wud or plastic will do in a pinch. If sumone leaves a box sittin anywhere owtside, I'm in it as soon as possibul. Even if it's realy tall, I try my best to hop in, or knok it over at leest. I like it best wen it's empty; no styrafome or plastic or papers. Wen I go to the vet's, I have a cardbord box cat-carrier. Misha leaves it open till we get there, an I just sit, lookin owt the window, in my box. Almost makes it wurth gettin a shot an the thurmometer yu-kno-where.

So I am the Boxcar Bandit. I have a blak coller, with a blak bell, an a blak, rownd, nametag. I live owtside, an I sleep in the poolshed. The uther cats don't go in the poolshed often cawse it's lowd sumtimes (the filtur an heeter an all the pipes). The lawnmoer bag is comfy, like a hamuck; so is the old blankit on top of some boxes.

The uther cats heer are okay. I ignor Gypsy; she's a strange one. She hisses an cries an whines when she sees any uther cat. Abra an I get along okay. Sometimes we share a cat-carrier, and sleep next to each uther. Toss, the yung ornge cat, is a pest. He pounces on all of us when we don't expect it, an tries to play. He dusn't unnerstand that Abra, Gypsy, and I are older cats (8+ years). Sparkle, the newest cat, is abowt a yeer old. I hisst at her alot at furst. But now we're best frends, an we curl up together at nite in the garadge, keeping eech uther warm.

My family eets dinner owtside alot in summertime. I do my best to stake owt one of them an beg for treets. I put my frunt paws on their leg an knead till I get food. Sometimes I get pusht away, after they say "Ow!". They don't unnerstand - it's "ME-OW!"

I eet just abowt anything. Chiken, stake, gwacamoly, Chinese food, Fritos, penuts, potato chips, french fries... yu name it. I inhale my food, which wurries the hoomins rownd heer. Once I choked, an Misha had to do a hime-lik type thing on me. They spred my cat food (dry) arownd, so it's not inna pile, an I can't gulp it down.

I get a lot of attenshun, but not as much as I'd like. Misha is alergic to me, somewhat. Also, I kneed, an I have needul-sharp claws. An I drool like a fawcet. I can't help it; is just how I am. She tries hard not to sneeze, or wince when I wurk my acupuncture on her.

In 1995, I hurt myself sumhow. I don't remembur, an my family is clooless as to how I did it. The bone in my chest, betwean my ribs, is displased. It pokes owtward a bit, insted of laying flat. I've ben to two vets, an neethur of them can do anything. It's okay, mostly, but I hav truble jumpin into laps, or standin on my hind legs to get pets or beg. The hoomins heer know this, an are extra careful with me. They also tell cumpany, so I don't get hurt aksidentaly.

I had an advenchur this last February - I got lost. I disapeerd on a Sunday, when it was realy rainy an windy an cold. Normaly, I stay in the bakyard, an nevur wander, but sumhow I ended up down the street. I didn't sho up for dinner, but I don't always, so my hoomins weren't too consernd. When brekfest on Monday came arownd, an I didn't sho up, then they wurried. They thot the wurst had happend, since I'm not as yung as I used to be. They looked al arownd the bakyard an poolshed an garadge an evrywhere else they cud think. Misha was hystaricul. She made up "Lost" flyers wif my pitcher on them an put them on all the neighbur's mailboxes. She cried alot, too.

Finally, on a Wensday mornin, she got a call frum someone who sed they had an ornge (?) cat with a coller like mine. It was her neighbur two howses down. She threw a sweter on ovur her pajamas an ran down the street in the pourin rain. I was in his bakyard. Soon as I saw her I got so exsited. I meowed and meowed as only a Siamese cat can. She scoopt me up an hugged me. I ended up droolin all over her, an snaggin her sweter in abowt 10 diffrent plases becawse I was kneedin franticly, but it was okay. I'd ben there the whole time. The neighbur never thot to look at my coller an nametag, even tho he knew I'd ben there sinse Sunday. All he fed me were Triscuits an watur, but at leest he fed me. His bakyard is kinda like mine; it has a pool, an a woodpile behind the garadge. So yu can see why I was confyoosed. So Misha thankd him, cryin happily, an ran home with me under her sweter. I had the best day aftur that. Canned cat food (a treet arownd heer), some lunchmeet, got to ride in the car with the heater on, shared some Chiken McNuggets an fries frum the drive thru with Misha, an got cheked owt by the vet. Also cawght up on all the pets an treets I'd misst owt on.

Now, when it mite be nasty weather owtside, Misha makes SURE all us kitties are safe in the garadge. She nevur wants to go thru that again. Nethur do I. Is very nise at this howse.

That's it for now. I hope to hav more stuff an picturs up soon.
Yu are welcom to email me, at gypsy@mooncrystal.com. Just make sure yu say it's for me!

Bandit

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Created August 7, 1996. Last updated November 4, 1997.