Tiamat was the ancient Babylonian Goddess of Chaos, or so I've been told.
                        My mother always told me I was well named - I love to explore, to play, to
                        run around.  Sometimes things get broken.  Sometimes people get hurt.  My
                        favourite game was to hide behind a doorframe and leap out at them as they
                        walked through the door (sometimes I could jump as high as their waist!).  If
                        they were carrying cups of coffee at the time, that wasn't my fault, was it?

                             Mum had had a black and white cat once before, called Skipper, and he used
                        to do that sort of thing, too.  Mum just said, "All black and white cats are
                        mad!"

                        I was adopted by my Mum and Dad when I was six weeks old and learned
                        very quickly that this was going to be a very good place to live.  I had lots of
                        food, a bed to sleep on, no annoying children in the house, and a big farm to
                        roam and play in.

                        When I was two, I got a bit too close to a cow in the field and she stepped on
                        me.  Every bone in my back leg was broken, and I had to go to the vet and
                        have several operations to save my leg, and had to wear a heavy splint on my
                        leg for two months.  Ever since then, my foot looks a bit funny and I started
                        to limp, but it didn't slow me down much for a long time.

                        After a few years, my Dad died and Mum and I went to live in a new place.
                        I had a ride on an aeroplane (which I did NOT like one bit), then spent some
                        time in a cattery while Mum's new house was finished.  I liked the new house,
                        even though it didn't have cows, and soon made friends with the neighbours.
                        I got plenty to eat from everybody and could lie on the driveway and know
                        that anyone who drove in would stop their car and move me.

                        But as I got older, Mum got older too.  The time came when she was too sick
                        to look after me properly.  She spent a lot of time in hospital, and I had to keep
                        going to the cattery.  It cost Mum a lot of money and she didn't like doing it
                        to me any more than I liked being there.  There was a big family meeting and
                        Mum's daughter took me to live with her.  I knew her and her husband and
                        liked them, but there were two big disadvantages to her house.  They already
                        had a cat and they had CHILDREN!  I never liked children.  I never liked other
                        cats much, either, but I thought I could keep Jenna in line (I did, too).  But
                        children were a different thing.  However, I soon taught them what they could
                        and couldn't do to me, and I found out that they are just as warm and cosy to
                        snuggle up to as grown up people.

                        I'm an old, old lady now and I've seen a lot in the last nineteen years.  The vet says
                        I'm in really good condition for my age.  My back leg that the cow stood on is
                        sometimes very weak and won't hold me up properly (especially when I first get
                        up after a nap) and I can't jump and climb any more, but I've got plenty to eat,
                        a choice of warm beds and laps to sleep on and people who love me.  What more
                        could an old cat ask for?
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