Standing in front of the cat house at our local Humane Society, I oohed and aahd at all the cats to choose from. I was both partial to a small black and white female that darted around the room. I held her and asked the obligatory health questions etc. My decision was made. Unfortunately, once the cat got into the house, I discovered that she actually hated men. Funny as that sounds, it was not funny for the man who lived through her terrorist attacks on him. So, back to the Humane Society I went, little terror in tow. The people there were great and allowed me to select another cat.

This time I stood at the cat house with a more discerning eye, wondering what evil may lurk under these cute, stubby and whiskered faces. I noticed as I paced (like any self-respecting parent-to-be) in front of the wood and wire “wall”, a small Tortoiseshell (aka “Torti”) cat following me. This cat followed me from one side to the other, back and forth. I stuck my finger through the wire and she rubbed it with vigor and purred. Hmm, pretty cute. I asked the volunteer to pick up the cat and tell me about her. She was about one year old, fixed, front de-clawed, indoor only and healthy. Her name was Gizmo. Gizmo? I waited for an employee to arrive and let me inside to hold her.

Once inside, I held Gizmo in my arms. She was immediately calm and heavy in my arms. Well, as heavy as a five pound cat can be. She purred. The employee told me Gizmo was a television star. Turns out, Gizmo had been on the “pet adoption” segment of a local TV news program. I decided then and there, this was our new cat. I told the woman I wanted her and the deal was done. As Gizmo was being “boxed up” for me, people started arriving. The sheer volume of inquiries about Gizmo was amazing. Her 15 seconds of fame were quite effective. I hope other cats found homes because of it but she was going home with me.

At home, I opened her “box” and she came creeping out. She explored the house while I explored her. She was calm, well behaved, talked a lot and had no fear. I was impressed at how fearless she was. I was sure she had been raised in a loving home and felt good about that. The only problem I had with her was the name “Gizmo”. I tried to adjust to it. I tried abbreviating it, making a nickname out of it. It just wasn’t me. After some deliberation, she was dubbed “Vegas” after, of course, the swanky and playful Las Vegas, NV.

As I soon discovered, Vegas had many talents: fetching rainbow balls, tearing into donuts, depositing strange items into her food bowl, meowing (I call it talking) A LOT, drinking from a water fountain, sleeping, jumping, lap sitting.... Vegas also made some friends, and some enemies. During the years Vegas has lived with me, she has become a vital part of my family and I hope you enjoy clicking around and learning more about her.