The Brenda Phenomenon

Brenda is a contradiction in fur. She is the peace-weaver. She is a light-house keeper. She is a paw-dangler. She is a show cat. She is a stray. She is a weirdo. She is a cherubic infant on a Victorian valentine.

She'll shreik and cower if Betty comes near her, even though she's twice her since. The mood will hit her once or twice a year to scamper.  Mostly she just saunters through our lives like a dusty peach cloud.

She acts so unlike any other cat I've known that sometimes I check myself and wonder if she really is a cat, or if maybe she's actually a teddy bear that some soft headed scientist animated and sent out into the world and into our hearts. 



The face of innocence.



She wears peachy-cream bloomers of varying lengths, depending on how recently she's been groomed by Becky at "Grooming With Finesse".  We have to have her groomed because she's too round to clean her nether regions properly.

She also has inter-digital tufts of fluff, which she pulls on when she cleans.

She loves to dangle her paws off of things. 

she sits on the edge of things to better dangle off of them. Yes, that's my Paxil in the background.

Brenda waiting to go inside.  As you can see from the look on her face, she's got the weight of the world on her shoulders. "don't tread on me"