Happy Homecatting, er Homecoming

Hello, humans, my caretakers have asked me to write to you today.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lois, aka Lois Fe-lane. I am the beautiful white cat with the gorgeous blue eyes (if I do say so myself) that you see when you walk into The Texas Spur newspaper.

I’m the elegant, aloof one. The boring gray-and-white member of the duo is Clark. (I know, I get it, har, har, yeah, just like in the Superman comic books. Humans can be so tiring sometimes.)

Don’t get used to me writing in the newspaper. I’m only doing it because the humans seemed a little busy this week with it being Homecoming and all, and I want to make sure they have plenty of time to feed me.

For those interested, I am partial to the green bag that says “Indoor Cat Formula.” Clark eats whatever I deign to leave him. Oh, and we also have a scruffy calico who hangs out here, called Governor. Don’t ask me why that name. I didn’t vote for her.

So, having lived at the newspaper for going on three years, I seem to recall that this Homecoming thing is a big deal. Humans from all over come to town for this shindig.

I’m okay with that. A lot of two-legged folks will come into the newspaper and tell me how beautiful I am—at least those who have a clue. The other ones will, yawn, stroll in and want to buy subscriptions or a coffee mug.

I guess I’m down with that, I suppose, if their moolah ultimately goes for cat food. (Forgive me. Even a sophisticat like myself occasionally resorts to slang.)

Speaking of slang, do any of you actually read the newspapers our humans publish every week? If so, can you please tell me why they write about football so much? I don’t get the whole sports thing. Humans actually want to run up and down a field and be tackled. Not for me.

If some cornerback came after me, I’d claw him up faster than you could say laser pointer.

I wish the humans would write something useful—like where’s the best place to catch field mice. Or how to grow your own catnip. A lack of curiosity can be deadly to humans.

Oops, new humans have walked in. It’s showtime. I must prepare to preen and purr.

More, when I feel like, it. —Lois