Ranunculus Turtle Family
(in order of adoption):

Toffee is one of two sisters rescued as feral kittens, and the only one currently living with The Turtle. Neither sister is wired quite right, but Toffee is the more adventurous of the two. She prefers being over everything or under something. She often sleeps in brick mode except for her head which she props chin first on the nearest vertical surface, giving the impression of a broken neck. She purrs at the drop of a hat or the opening of a can of cat food. She doesn't care for the other cats and prefers to spend nights by herself in the guest room. During the day, you will find her in a warm, cushy spot, often my chair! 
 

I adopted Simon from a Pet Smart pet adoption program. He'd escaped the needle once. I'd recently lost my cat friend of fifteen years, and Simon helped me move on with life. Little Brother is fat, sassy and utterly ruined with bad habits, and I love him stupidly. He hates cat carriers, loves big dogs and won't eat chicken. He must test everything with one paw (hence his nickname "The Paw") and knocks pictures off the wall if his meal isn't served on time. I've written several songs about him, including "The Sound of Simon," "So You See My Name Is Simon," and "Simon, Simon, Why Aren't You Sleeping?" He is the first to greet visitors and the last to bid them farewell. Like any male, he is most afffectionate at 2 AM and when he's hungry.

Sweetie dropped straight from heaven onto my neighbor's lawn. She arrived spayed, house-broken, and sweet-tempered even with cats, a necessity in the Ranunculus Turtle household. After weeks of fruitless searching for her former owner, she decided to stay in this house and learn the way of the Turtle. It hasn't always been easy. The cats love her far more than she loves them. She has some bad habits, like jumping on people, playing tug-o-war, and a refusal to release what she fetches, but who hasn't had trouble with those behaviors?

I didn't know Skuttle existed until she was treed by my "dog at the time," Jasper (see Star of Justice page for his pics). Extremely curious, she is also extremely cautious. She fell in love with "Uncle Simon" immediately and is now a perfect mirror of every one of his bad habits, including "the paw." She is most affectionate when I have five minutes to finish dressing before I leave for my day job.  She pretty much ignores/runs from me the rest of the day. She reminds me very much of her mother, clever and independent, and just a little bit contemptuous of humans.

I noticed Skamper as a kitten leaning against his feral mother's side in my backyard. He was and is a complete momma's boy. He also embodies the "curiousity killed the cat" cliche. He watched me set up the live trap and got caught in it five minutes after I left the garage. It took him three months to let me touch him, but now only Mica is between him and 24-hour lap time (in fact, he's in my lap while I'm typing this!). He remains terrified of other humans and vanishes into the basement ceiling when he hears a voice other than mine in the house. After three years, he still gets spooked if I look different. Example: he hid for an hour the first time he saw me in earmuffs.




Mica is the oldest lady of the house, and came to me with a full history. Abandoned in an empty apartment as a kitten, she was rescued after two weeks by a loving family. When that family moved, Mica was adopted by a caring neighbor. After an escape and vanishing act one night, Mica returned the next morning to spend the next eleven years and several moves with her new family. When that dear lady lost her husband and moved into a nursing home, Mica came to live with me. Spoiled rotten from life as an only cat, she has become the "police cat," rushing in with her declawed paws and customary growl to batter anyone engaging in unruly public behavior. She likes to sleep in laps and the crooks of arms and expects to eat anything I eat.



Caleb is the newest member of the household. I called him every conceivable name for two weeks, but he would have none of it. While trying "normal" cat names, it occurred to me the most ironic name for a cat would be "Caleb," which means "dog" in Hebrew. He agreed, and has answered to Caleb ever since.  I should call him "Dragon." Do you see those eyes?