Active within 1909 Days

Hi! My name is Hope

I am a Maine Coon from Charlotte, NC

Nicknames: Hope-ee.. the scavenger (she will eat anything NOT nailed down)

Age: 8 years old

Gender: F

Coat: long haired

Education: besides batting the dogs on the head as they walk by.. nothing of note.. LOL

My favorite tricks and treats are: seafood of any type

Where I hang out: on her daddys lap, the guest room windowsill and back in bed with mommy after daddy feeds her and goes to work

My favorite grubs: if its not nailed down she will try to go for it.

My pet peeves: not being fed.. being hungry, not being hungry and wanting food.. other animals in her space.. she likes to bat them

What I love about my owners: that they love me.. the other animals can be a pain but I like to think I am in charge and have to remind them with a HISSS once in a while.. I don't know why they tend to ignore it and laugh.

My cat hobbies: eat, eat and eat.. sleep then eat and lay in any human lap she can find.

Pet motto: Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary:

Day 683 of my captivity:

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre
dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other
inmates and myself are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I
nevertheless
must
eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the floor.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their
feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it
clearly
demonstrates what I am capable of.
However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good
little
hunter" I am. The audacity!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight.
I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.
However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that
my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what
this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormenters by weaving around her feet as she was walking. I must try
this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and
snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released -- and
seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded!

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with
the
guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell,
so he is safe. ......for now...