The Security of Hearth & Home - by Phoebe

Please note that there is no "2" in this "Phoebe". I am the Phoebe, to whom you've already been introduced - albeit inadequately - in an earlier post. My sister and I live with a woman I'll call "M". We won't disclose her full name - just in case we should happen to say anything that might offend; we do appreciate our steady stream of treats, toys and Iams, after all. Besides, she has given us our own page on this blog and we are not about to squander the opportunity to reach out to our public.

Although we have been portrayed as somewhat ... passive, we really do have definite roles in this household. One of my jobs is apartment security. 

We live in a beautiful, spacious apartment with hardwood floors, a working fireplace, two bedrooms (one for M and one for us), two and a half baths (the "half" is a feline en suite in our room), an enclosed porch, a lovely fenced-in yard and wonderful neighbors. When M is called away for an overnight trip, Jeanne, Pam or Lori stop in to feed and play with us. We have a lovely time, but I digress. Despite the presence of such agreeable and watchful neighbors, apartment security is vital in this day and age - and not just from the standard, run-of-the-mill riff-raff, either. All potential threats - tangible and intangible (to some) - must be thoroughly investigated. The lion's share of the task falls to me as I am reserved by nature. My sister, Annie, is far more of an extrovert; she will speak to everyone!

M has friends who have proved to be quite reliable. The previously mentioned neighbors are also friends. Jeanne's sister, Paulette, comes every other Monday and, aside from her love of the large and very LOUD machine that sucks up our discarded hair - she's one of our favorites. We've known and loved M's friend, Dawn, our whole lives (so far) as we met her when we were first adopted. Another good friend is Lora who lives very far away and has only visited once so far. Annie, in particular, loves her and always curls up on the sofa where Lora sat. I think she believes that she is saving her seat for the next visit. And then there is Dee, who claims to hate cats, but can always be relied upon for the perfect ear scratch. I tell you all of this so you will know that despite our - well, my - rigorous standards, we do let people in. But there is a process to be observed before this happens.

When a new person arrives, both Annie and I will generally come to the door to greet them. Most are anxious to pat us or pick us up. I, of course, do not allow this degree of familiarity until I know who I am dealing with. Really; does one imagine that when visiting the White House, the Obamas permit guests to pick up their children for a quick cuddle before proceeding into a State Dinner? I think not. That said, however, I do need a bit of quick contact to gather the scent for processing and evaluation. Once I've done so, I typically make a quick - but graceful - exit, allowing Annie to continue to "work the room", as it were.

Once safe beneath the bed in my room, I can more carefully examine the scent - and the visual impression - of the newcomers. Some things I have learned:

• shorter people (those under 4 feet in height) should be avoided. There are some exceptions. Pam's two grandchildren are very nice. Those who arrive in costume once a year, demanding candy should generally be avoided. Really, shouldn't parents provide sweets for them? Every dollar spent on Tootsie-Pops is a dollar not spent on items for Annie and me, after all.
• tall, deep-voiced people with whiskers (and I'm not referring to women after a certain age) are often not overly appreciative of cats. There are some, of course. M's brother visits frequently and, truth be told, he is one of the very few men I've approved. Her godson is another. Very nice men. Bald - the both of them. Perhaps that's why they like patting us so much. They just like hair and miss their own. Lora's husband visited once. Not bald. Very polite. He may certainly visit again.
• people who deliver food should always be allowed to pass. They don't even need to be scented. The food should be. Annie does not enjoy human food. I, however, have been known to indulge in yogurt, a dab of mashed potato, the odd piece of chicken. In the event that any of these are being brought into the house by strangers, it's my rule to give the delivery staff a wide path to do their jobs.
• women in high heels should be avoided. M teeters around in them every now and again, but I've trained her to leave them by the door when she arrives home from the office. One out of control "teeter" can result in weeks of tail and paw recuperation.

Once the newcomer has been thoroughly evaluated, the humans have generally retired to the living room. It is my practice to seat myself just outside the doorway which is in M's direct line of vision - when she is sitting in "her" (ha!) chair. I stare at her until she looks at me and silently communicate my approval of the newest visitor. If they have not passed muster, I find a good sized hairball, upchucked on the area rug in the center of the room, will get that point across quite nicely.

I believe I will allow you time to digest this first essay. Next up: Perimeter Security.

Phoebe