My name is Donna, Donna Noble. I come from a farm life where we cats have to work for our living, the true no work, no eat mentality. So, I eventually met this man who frequently visited the farm for milk and eggs. I approached him directly and motioned for him to take me home. We irrevocably changed my life when he picked me up. My coronation as Queen of the Pride will take place in a few weeks by Ms. Tituba, our fourteen-year-old leader. I am now in charge of this insane pride alongside our King, Jules Verne. But let’s go back to right after I arrived here.

It’s a nice summer day, and I am out in the yard chasing butterflies. I am only about ten to twelve weeks old, but have the attitude of a six-month-old where “anything is possible” and “I am invincible”. Ms. Ella, the nanny of the pride, is watching over us as we kittens play, and some bigger males are watching the perimeter. I look over toward the driveway and see our giant British Short hair, James Patterson, standing guard, and decide to have some fun. I dash over as if to attack his tail when he turns his enormous head my way, as if to say’ I see you’, so I put the brakes on and quickly turn away as if nothing happened.

Mr. Patterson turns back to watch for anything coming in, so I start again and am joined by one of the other kittens. By this time, I have drawn the attention of our hunting teacher of beginners, Ms. Grace Livingston Hill, and her daughter Ann Shirley, advanced hunting teacher. We prepare for our attack, but not a butterfly this time. My buddy and I attack Mr. “P”. One from each side, just above his tail. We find out why he is called one of the ‘Gentle Giants’ as he just turns over to play swat with us. This goes on for about ten minutes, and my attack buddy and they wore me out. We curl up on each side of Mr. Patterson for a nice catnap to recharge.

After approximately thirty minutes, Ms. Ella comes over to me and comments that Ms. Grace is looking for me. The performance for this week is all I discuss with her on the porch, but the following week, I prepare for hunting under her instruction. I also learn that in a few short weeks, our ruler, Ms. Tituba, will summon me inside to meet with her because she has something special planned for my future. All Ms. Grace will say is that the Sanctuary is my permanent home, thus starting my new life at Crazy Cat Sanctuary & Black Cat Rescue. Me, a little teeny ball of golden yellow fur barely larger than my new daddy’s hand.

I learn to hunt, at first small mice and baby moles. Then small rabbits and finally birds. Now the fun begins. I am in the kitchen with several other larger kittens, Tiger Man and Jules Verne. We hear something moving behind the rear board of the cabinet. Tiger Man and Jules Verne are on the cabinet, and we kittens are following the sound on the floor. Jules moves to the stove and starts cocking his head to get a fix on the noise, and Tiger Man does the same thing halfway between the sink and stove. As Tiger Man tries to get a better fix on the noise, he dives for the floor at the corner of the stove. All the humans see is a blur of cat fur. The next thing they see is me in hot pursuit of something small and furry with a tail. My sister informs me as I stand up that I have successfully captured Kamikaze Mice, the most elusive rodent on the property. After I have a snack, she sets up a kitty celebration, and that’s when I find out the other cats have been trying to catch that mouse for about nine weeks now. I caught it on my first indoor hunt. The next day, I meet Ms. Tituba, that straight from Jules Verne, Pride Leader, and King.

The next morning after breakfast, I met with Ms. Tituba in the presence of Jules Verne, Tiger Man, Tiger Tye, and Sister, or should I say, Mom. My new human mom. During this encounter, I learn from Her Highness that I will soon take the throne as Queen of the Pride, and that Dorothy is now regarded as my mother formally and with her approval. Only one other cat has had that honor, and she has gone over the Rainbow Bridge. I’ll get to meet Ms. Madeline, a.k.a. Ms. Maddy, one day. I will take her place as the queen, but not as a replacement part. I bring myself to the position, and Ms. Maddy still has her place in the heart. Time for another kitty celebration, for sure.

Lunch that day was not the usual kibble. It was part kibble, kibble with concoctions of wet food mixed in, and we all ate until we were full and content. It was Party Time to celebrate the new queen being chosen. That mix is only used for what humans call holidays, like Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year, and other special occasions… like this. Of course, we have our names for them, but we still love the treat. The nicest part is that we can celebrate together with our humans. I even use my particular bowl for these occasions. Well, that’s how a little kitten becomes the pride queen of a cat sanctuary. Time for me to talk to the King and mom about the newest arrivals, and to find out what is on the schedule for lunch, wet or dry. Either way, our humans are just as picky about what we eat as we are. Thank you, Ms. Boots, for being our dietitian. You can check out her story here.

Later