Are you talkin' to me? Are you talkin' to me? I don' see nobody else here, so you must be talkin' to me

Hey, If I wuz you, I'd be makin' wid' the vittles, or else! (just to give you an idea of how big he is...)


Mmmm (crunch, munch) Much (mmmmf) better!

One of the few times he's not right in front of the screen...



On the prowl.




In 1992, I got the best Christmas gift I ever received - a fairly large (I thought!) orange tabby cat, given to me my my sisters Irene and Nancy. They picked him up at an animal shelter. He'd been found outdoors, and he must have been someone's cat because he had his front claws removed (something I'd never do). Anyway, he was afraid of his new surroundings, and was wary of this new person he was taking ownership of. He used to hate being held for any period of time, and since he lost his front claws, he adapted by learning to bite. Hard. I had bite marks on my hands and arms more often than not.

Over the years, he's calmed down, but he still freaks out if he's held too long (30 seconds or more), or is petted the wrong way. I was at a loss about what to name him, but eventually it dawned on me to name him based on two bits of his behaviour - oddly moody at strange times, but mainly by the way he would race into a room, arrive, and stop. I think I was watching Seinfeld at the time when I finally decided. What else could I do? (and no, he has never responded to "Cosmo"...)

Since then, he became a large lump. He was very talkative and had several different meows. He would sit in my lap, especially when I'd be reading a newspaper. He purred louder than any cat I've ever met, acted as a secondary (sometimes primary) alarm clock. Aaaaaaanyway, here're some photos I've taken of him.

Update 2005: Kramer passed on between Christmas and New Year's in 2004, after a fairly quick series of health problems. I will always remember him fondly. I miss him a lot.

Jimmy wants to see more pictures

Iiiiiiiii'm Out!