Our friendly gray tortie "Hobo" began showing up for handouts shortly after we bought our house. We like old folk, country and blues music, and many of the songs talk about rambling, panhandling hobos - so the name seemed to fit. For months, we thought Hobo belonged to someone in the neighborhood, because she always looked well-fed and healthy; but no one could tell us about her origins. (We figured she must have had a good "lunch route.") She started coming around to see us more and more frequently, sunbathing on the back deck and checking out the action in our kitchen through the sliding glass door.

Hobo gradually worked her way into our household through sheer persistence and charm. (She even tried to stow away in the back of our car when we left on our honeymoon!) The true turning point was when Cathy's mother - owner of multiple cats - brought over a BIG grocery bag filled with canned cat food. After that, Hobo totally took over and we've happily gone along for the ride. Like Vegas, she hates the vacuum cleaner and certain musical instruments - especially loud ones like drums. (When we play the melodica - a sort of mouth organ with piano keys - she tries to head-butt it out of our hands!) Cathy "

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"A few years ago I was graced with the presence of a fantastic cat named Clyde. His full name came to be "Clyde-you-little-buster-what-are-you-doing" because of all of his adventures. And I use the word adventure in the grandest sense. He came into our lives for a short time but impacted us in ways we are still discovering.

Clyde and Ilyanna came to know each other via the shelter. Ilyanna adopted two little ones on that day, our hero, and ButterCup, who eventually adopted me, Anita. We all lived together in the Big House on "T" Street for about a year. During that time, Clyde developed a very adventurous side. Some of his many escapades included Buzzing, The rat, The tree outside Yanna's window, Trapped, and this one:

The roof.

The Roof It was a nice Sunday in Washington, DC. Not too hot. Not too cold. I was lounging on my bed talking to my mother on the phone. The Big House on T Street was filled with the usual sounds, pans clanging, music playing and people talking. There was a nice breeze coming in the window and I was looking out at the sky. Just as I started to tell my mother about my work week I saw a small gray face staring back at me from above with a smile on his face."Ohmigawd! I have to go! Clyde is looking at me from the neighbor's roof! I'll call you back....BYE!"

I ran up the stairs to the third floor and found Meghan (another roommate) trying to coax our daredevil back into the window. He wasn't interested in her pleas and just rolled over on the warm roof. His face was covered with the look of sheer joy for being alive and naughty. Meghan was beside herself because she thought Yanna was going to be angry at her for not taping down the loose screen from which he escaped. I was scared that we couldn't get him back inside but I thought that if he got over there, he could get back. I think back now and know that was foreshadowing...

I called for Yanna to come upstairs and see her cat. She laughed and laughed and began to climb out the window to fetch him. This window is three stories up and the neighbor's roof is not attached. So she shimmied around and straddled the wall. I kept a phone close and hoped that I wouldn't need to dial 911. Images of her broken body on the ground flashed in my head.

Yanna picked up Clyde. He knew he was caught and struggled to get free from mom. We tried to pass him back through the window but he was too squirmy and might fall to the ground (three floors down). I decided to get a pillow case to put him in so we could pass him around easier. But Yanna said she has a better idea (this is where it gets strange...) She calmed him down and tells me her new "plan."

"Ok, here' it is: I am going to just throw him over to the patio. It isn't far and he will be like a little rubber band. "

"Um, no. that is not a good idea... can't we just pass him through the window?" "It will be fine. He is so light he'll just sail on over."

The neighbor's roof and our patio were on the same level so I went out there to get a better view of her idea. I think she must have lost a couple of brain cells at some point because there is no way this can happen. But she starts to wind up and begins to toss Clyde. In slow motion action, I see the White-footed Wonder stretch to his full length and hook one claw into Yanna's sweater while swinging out and over the drop. He uses all of his little body's strength to will himself back onto Yanna. All four paws gripped her body and held on; his whole body was breathing heavily. Yanna and I just screamed.

I never did tell her "I told you so..." but I did get that pillow case and he never went near that loose screen again. AnitaMarie "