The Princess

Abby Cat, otherwise known as "The Princess" or "Miss Priss," is a supporting character at the Smith household.  Not that she'd win any awards for Best Supporting Actress, because she's not what you'd call "sweet" or "loving."  She's a diva in her own right, and knows it.

Mr. Smith gave me Abby as a birthday present about 3.5 years ago, so she's been around for awhile now.  She's extremely high maintenance, more so than Cooper really, and won't settle for anything less that the best. 

And when she doesn't get her way, or if her Momma leaves for more than 2 days in a row, she leaves a nice puddle of joy waiting for me in the kitchen, as a Welcome Home present. 

Our routine with Abby goes a little something like this...  when we get home for work in the evening, she barely speaks to us.  Unless I'm in the kitchen cooking, and then she might win the "World's Sweetest Cat" award.  Whatev - she just wants any scraps I might toss her way.  She's not fooling me.

About 11 p.m. every night, once Mr. Smith and I have turned off the TV and are drifting off to sleep (and Coop's snug in his kennel), Abby waltzes into our bedroom, jumps on the dresser, and proceeds to knock things off until her Momma wakes up.  Once I get up from the bed, I have to put fresh cat food in her dish and take it from the kitchen to the guest bedroom, where I shut her up in there for the night.  (With a litterbox... easy PETA.)  This is her bedroom, and everyone knows it. 

Now, before you judge me, we've tried countless time to quit this routine.  We've tried shutting our bedroom door, and she sits outside it and scratches her clawless paws against it.  For hours.  And hours. 

Upon waking up in the morning, I let her out of her bedroom, where she heads to the bathroom for some water.  This cat only drinks fresh water from the bathtub.  I'm not joking.  She will not touch the communal water bowl in the kitchen, where the dog drinks.  It's beneath her. 

I give her one treat before heading to work, and another treat upon coming home from lunch.  If I do not give her the two treat allotments, there are consequences.  Sometimes, puddles of joy in the kitchen or her attitude gets even worse.

Have I created a monster?  Probably.  But, she's our firstborn and we love her. 

Read: I love her and the boys put up with her. 

Abby and her Faucet. 

Abby loves to get in the warm towels from the dryer and then pounce on Cooper when he tries a sneak attack.

She loves to eat/obliterate any and all flowers that Mr. Smith may on occasion bring home. 

And, above all, this Diva likes to look at her Momma with this disdainful expression each and every day. 

The joy of raising children...