Let’s be honest: I think I own four cats. But deep down, I know the truth. I’m just a well-trained, food-dispensing, tent-building minion to a furry feline cabal. Around here, cats rule the house, specifically Widget, Fern, Ash, and Toadie. They run the show, and when they’re not napping in sunbeams, I’m pretty sure they’re plotting global domination.
Widget: The Soft-Pawed Puppet Master
Don’t be fooled by Widget’s wide-eyed innocence or his tendency to hide when he thinks anyone is coming to visit. This brownish tabby is the emotional manipulator of the crew. He’s a certified Mama’s Boy, which means he has mastered the art of guilt-tripping me into getting up early to give him his breakfast. He will cuddle up next to me while I’m sleeping, purr with the loudest motor you’ve ever heard, and then make biscuits on my face.
Despite being scared of knocks at our door, the thought of getting flea meds put on the back of his neck, and the cat carrier, Widget’s influence is mighty. He’s the emotional glue of the operation, the quiet schemer. If there’s a a piece of fabric or laundry to lay on, Widget is on it, strategically maintaining morale (mine) while keeping tabs on the other three.
Fern: Apex Predator, Parkour Enthusiast, Chaos Agent
Fern is sleek, black, and 100% chaos with claws. She is the house panther, the ninja-in-residence, the “hold my crunchies, I’m doing something reckless” kind of girl. While I’m clinging to the arm of the couch watching her scale the living room curtain with Olympic confidence, Fern is silently calculating her next mission: perhaps leaping from the fridge to the pantry in pursuit of a sky raisin.
She’s also ridiculously sweet, until she goes full jungle mode and takes down what’s left of her felt Santa Clause toy like she’s on National Geographic. Honestly, if Fern decided to lead a revolution, I’d probably just step aside and offer her Churus for the cause.
Ash: The Sleepy Enforcer With Kitty Kankles
Ash is our long-haired white and grey cloud of fluff. A daddy’s girl through and through, she pretends to be athletic like Fern but… how do I put this gently… she doesn’t always stick the landing. She aims for “graceful jungle cat” and lands squarely in “pillow-shaped beanbag.” And yet, she tries. We love her for that.
She spends a good 80% of the day napping. And her chubby little kitty ankles are illegal levels of cute. Ash is the velvet-gloved enforcer of the house, quiet and cozy but fully capable of asserting control when needed.
Toadie: Tortitude in a Chunky Package
Toadie came to us under tough circumstances when my mom passed in November 2022. She has what cat people respectfully call tortitude, which means she’s spicy, opinionated, and unafraid to issue a formal hiss for anything she doesn’t like or agree with, which is just about anything and everything.
But here’s the thing Toadie doesn’t want you to know: she loves living with us. No, really. She actually enjoys having cat siblings, at times. She plays with them. She naps with Mike. She maintains her tough exterior, but the moment she curls up for a nap near the others, you know she’s fully integrated into this furry cult of personality.
I’m Just the Staff
You know how every secret organization has a powerless but useful assistant? That’s me. I scoop the litter. I distribute the licky treats. I referee the early morning play fights and late night zoomie Olympics. My phone is full of blurry cat photos I took while whispering “look at your little face” like a complete fool.
These four cats rule the house, quietly, sneakily, with toe beans and whiskers. Widget pulls heartstrings. Fern keeps things spicy. Ash runs on naps, Churus, and Daddy-lovins. Toadie keeps us all humble. And together, they’ve probably already formed a secret government and are just waiting for the lasers to be installed on the Roomba.
Long live the feline regime.
