Yes, its me again. The HEesh of the SHEesh and HEesh combo. I'm not absolutely possitive that sis and I were feral kittens, but we do know that John, the human that rescued us was. Let me correct that, John was feral, not a feral kitten. He lived on the wrong side of the tracks, in the town of Fresno which actually doesn't really even have a right side. John was a cowboy, gardener, plumber, painter when he was sober and feral when he wasn't. His sister lived next door to our biped and he occassionally visited her. Well one Sunday he showed up wif us and a couple empty beer bottles in a box. He knocked on the biped's door and asked her if she wanted a kitten. Well I looked like the biped's beloved Beau James so she immediately chose me. John threatened to leave the other kitten with his sister (another story wif a not so gud ending) so the biped reluctantly took us bof in da house. Can anyfur quess what Grandma Biped said?
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