Fur, Fame, and Feline Follies: The Nine Lives of Mouse The Cat. Episode 1: Kittenhood

Hi there! I’m Mouse. Beautiful? Check. Smart? You bet. Wonderful? Without a doubt. Now, let me introduce myself.

My profile:

Imperial Name: Myshka (‘Little Mouse’ in Russian). My non-Russian companion pronounces it as ‘Teddy Bear’ or ‘Little Fly.’😁

Aliases: Cheeks, Striped Breeches, Furry Damsel, Beloved Beast, Gray Megabeast, Cutosaur, Mousaur, Mousini, Singer-Furringer, Your Furryness… and tons of hilarious Russian nicknames, based on play on words and thus untranslatable

Life Form: Human (cleverly disguised as a feline)

Gender: Lady

Lineage: Awesome (aka Domestic Shorthair)

Count of Lives Spent: 8

As of September 2025, I’m 19 years and 8 months old. Royal Jubilee coming soon! 🎆🎉

Official Robe: Some say tabby; I say gorgeous gray with classy stripes, cute spots, and a show-stopping yellow tummy.

Fluff Mass Index: slim and elegant (2.6 kg/5.7 lb)

Spayed: of course (never had any plans for mingling with felines)

Occupation: Queen

Title: My Magnificent Majesty

Favorite Сolor: Purrple (color of queens – and meat!)

Distinguished Peculiarities: walking on a leash like a dog; fetching a ball; responding when being pointed at

Royal Menu: Premium kibble and pâtés (the only peasant food I tolerate)

Royal Snacks: 

• Assorted meat, fish & seafood (catch of the day, please)
• Cheese plate (the stinkier the better)
• Fresh sour cream (served in crystal, preferably)
• Sandwich toppings (the spoils of conquest)

Forbidden Pleasures (Strictly Recreational):

• Potato skins, dry bananas, raisins (sampled briefly, ceremoniously gifted back to the palace floor)

Eyes inside a jacket

I was born around January 2006 and spent my earliest days happily with Mom and my siblings — though those memories are fuzzy.

At about a month old, our caretaker packed us into a box and carried us to a noisy human place they call a “subway station.” She showed us off (no wonder, we were irresistibly cute), and one by one my brothers and sisters found new homes. Then she tucked me inside her jacket for warmth — much better than shivering alone in the box.

I knew right away I was special — so only someone equally special would do. I sat patiently inside that jacket, waiting for the moment I’d be claimed by my perfect home. I was already dozing off when I heard a dialogue: 

“Do you have black kittens?”

“No, they’ve all already been taken.” 

“What a pity… I wanted a black one.”

“But I have a very pretty gray girl left!”

I couldn’t take it anymore — how dare this insolent creature doubt my unmatched beauty?! I poked my head out of the jacket, and instantly heard:

"Oh, those eyes are irresistible!"

Hmm… maybe this new human wasn’t so bad. Her hands were gentle and smelled nice, so I didn’t mind being tucked into yet another warm jacket.

Before long, I grew tired of sitting in the dark. So I scratched and wriggled until I climbed into the jacket’s hood — the perfect lookout. Not that there was much to see: everything was white, and something kept nipping my nose (later I learned it was called winter cold). 

A typical Mouse

Finally, I was in a warm place again. 

Everything looked and smelled strange, so I spent hours exploring my new kingdom. 

After my daring bucket expedition (who knew it was full of water?!)

Why am I called Mouse? Naturally, my humans wanted the most beautiful, unique name for me. They searched, they debated, they overthought it… forever. Finally, the bigger one snapped: ‘I’m done yelling “Hey, you!” She’s small, gray, tiny-tailed — a typical Mouse!

And just like that, my ‘unique’ name was born.

My new keepers were lovely, but hopelessly lazy — sleeping too much! So I tried to liven things up: sprinting over them, styling their hair… nothing worked. After 2 nights of my finest entertainment, they kicked me out of the bedroom. The ingratitude! I was so lonely I cried all night.

Meet Father Bear

That’s when I found my second mother — well, actually a dad: a giant blue teddy bear, soft and comfy beyond belief. From then on, we were inseparable. By day we lounged in the room, by night we camped in the hallway. And I never cried at night again.

The bear had just one flaw: he kept shrinking, month after month. A year later, I could barely fit on his belly. The mystery was never solved — but I loved him all the same.

Bringing up Baby

My caretakers and I lived in perfect harmony. 

The only time we really quarreled was when they spayed me. First, the awful clinic. Then the discomfort. And worst of all — that hideous onesie smothering my glorious coat! I stayed grumpy for a couple of weeks. The moment it came off, life was back to normal.

I climbed, crawled, pawed at anything that moved, and shamelessly stole whatever caught my eye. Half the time I didn’t even want it — it was just the thrill of the heist.

As a kitten (and later a young adult), I picked up a few purrs of wisdom:

1) My parents are humans, so I'm a human too, only a small one.

2) If food looks tempting, grab it fast and drop it on the floor to claim it. Only then sniff, taste, and decide at leisure. Not your thing? No problem — go get something else.

Big humans love their food, but they’ll never touch it once it hits the floor. A bizarre prejudice… yet wonderfully convenient for me. Feel free to use this trick — I don’t mind sharing. 😎

Stay tuned, things are about to get interesting!

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