Jamaica's Story

Jamaica is a princess. There is no doubt thats what she believes and has me believing. I am simply her slave and have been besotted by her since the day I met her. Jamaica was a rescue. She was born into rescue and when I met her I was actually there to see another cat that had been put up on a rescue board. Now we know that cats often choose us and the cat in question just wasnt into me. After realising that Lucky wasnt coming to join me, I was a little disappointed. Kat had her mum living with her downstairs and Lucky was devoted to her mum and never really took to others. She was orginally a feral. Kat's mum identified that there was a cat that might be a puurrrfect match and introduced me to Jamaica who was sitting on her bed. A beautiful black girl, a colour I hadnt had before, and she was grooming herself on the bed. She didnt shy away and in fact welcomed the pats and seemed open to moving down south. After making a few arrangements I picked her up the next week and we travelled in the car with her miaowwing protests for a bit and then just knew she now had a home of her own. She is now 19. I have been her slave for almost all of those 19 years as she was 9 months old when she came to me and she is definitely a mum's girl. She is going a bit deaf, actually quite deaf and this morning was out back and a storm approached with the thunder and she didn't bat an eyelid yet her brother, Ollie was hiding away in the cubby hole of the scratch post. Jamaica, aka Jamaica Fluffybum, Jammie loves her treats, loves cuddling up and is very spoiled. She now has a little sister and brother who tease her but she such a gentle soul and rarely has a go back. She loves to sun herself but lately here we have had a month of mostly wet weather she hasnt been impressed.