My name is Ringo the cat. My owners got me on 9/11/2001. They were kind enough to teach me how to read and write.
I spend my days chasing spiders, lying on the wardrobe on the first floor, biting my nails, and licking my own ass. Sometimes my owners’ kid scares the hell out of me and then I either run upstairs or I lie flat on my belly. She thinks it means she should come catch me. If she doesn’t yell too loudly, I let her pat my head and rub me behind my ears too.
Occasionally I ask my owners to post my opinions about the books they leave around the house on this blog.
P.S. I’m also a black cat, but that has nothing to do with 9/11. I was actually born 2 months before that event!