I never thought I was a cat person (blame that on Mom for not allowing pets), but then there’s this cat. She acts like a dog, she thinks she belongs here and she makes herself at home. She even walks into our home. Her real name is Vicky and she came from our neighbor. They didn’t neglect her, she just decided she liked our Grandma better.

No one knows for sure but she has to be somewhere between 12-15 years old. She’s had litters of babies, got into a dog fight, and survived jaw surgery. She’s brought us many “gifts” with feathers and tails too. Vicky fits the description of the ladies that live in this house. Independent and tough bitches that do what they want. Her old age has turned her into an inside/outside cat and if that’s what the Queen wants, that’s what the Queen gets.