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The Adventures of Sputnik VonWiskars

 

 

 

 

 
 

Sputnik's Story


As the official spokescat for Mercantilium.com, I lead a pretty glamorous life. My days are filled with photo shoots and gourmet food. But things haven't always been so easy.

 

Here's the story of how I came to be known as Sputnik VonWiskars.

 

 


Worming My Way Inside

Once I knew that Daisy & Mow needed my skills as a mediator (or referee) I had to figure out how to get Softie to let me come inside.

 

You may be wondering how Softie got her name.  Well, all humans have their names tattooed on their foreheads in ink that is visible only to cats. These names are written in Catonese (the official feline language). Softie's name actually doesn't translate that well into English. Some cats believe that the proper translation would be "Sucker", but I think "Softie" has a much nicer ring to it.

 

Anyhow, I started to include Softie's place on my regular nightly rounds, and lo and behold, one day she set a bowl of food out for me! It was so wonderful to have a whole bowl of food all to myself, so I made a point to come around at the same time every night. Softie started saying that she could tell what time it was by my comings and goings. That's why she started calling me "Sputnik". Apparently there used to be a big ball in the sky called Sputnik that came around on a very regular schedule... I wonder if that ball was fun to play with...

 

Even though I really wanted to come inside, and the food was really good, I still wasn't completely sure that I trusted Softie. But she was persistent, and one night after I ate, she scooped me up and put me in her lap! I was really scared, but it felt really nice too! When she put me down, I was so upset that she stopped snuggling me that I turned around and hissed at her until she picked me up again!

 

I knew that I was making progress when Softie put a collar on me with a note asking if anybody owned me. Imagine that! A human having the audacity to think that anyone could own a cat! Well, Mary (the old lady who fed me from time to time) saw the note and called Softie begging her to take me in. Winter was coming and Mary didn't want me to spend another cold season outside.

 

But it took one last trick to get Softie to let me inside. One day the vet came and took some of Mow's teeth away. She said she felt better after it was all over, but right afterwards she felt pretty crummy. Well, Mow was sleeping in her bed just inside the patio door, and I could tell that she needed comforting, so I spent the entire day sitting outside the screen door purring loud enough so that Mow could hear me and feel better.

 

After that, Softie was sold and she decided that I had earned a trip inside!

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