Yes, you're right - I am just about the cutest, tiniest, medium-long-haired tabby woman on the whole wide planet. People come around and accuse me of being a kitten. Not hardly. I'm a mom - that's how I got here. My kittens have gone to fine homes, and I'm ready for mine. Truth be told, I'd probably be a grandma, even a great-grandma by now, if Feline Rescue hadn't taken me and my family to, uh, "visit the vet". Pretty tiny and much too spunky for a great-grandma, don't you think?

My name? Oh, I don't know - I just liked it. Not for the Wisconsin city - have you been there? Not my style. And certainly not for James Madison. He spent all his time writing things - "Federalist Papers" and such. I'm not a writer. On the other hand, if you've got some Federalist Papers, I could certainly rustle around in them, chew them, crumple them up and toss them in the air. I'm very good at that.

I am good in the air. Are you fond of ballet? I will pirouette to great heights. Ah, figure skating - I don't need skates or ice to do a triple axel - just dangle that purple feather toy and watch me. Speaking of purple, I hear the Minnesota Vikings could use a good wide receiver. I jump so far over these cornerbacks around here, they can't even see me, much less tackle me. And here's the important thing: I can catch the ball. (If, of course, Buggsy hasn't hidden it from me.) Whatever your amusement, I will deliver. Ballet in the summer, football in the fall. What else?

Whew! I'm exhausted. All that flying and leaping. Mind if I just flop down beside you? Flop my tail out and relax? How about I sit in your lap? How about you carry me for a while? I'm tired. Let's go to your place and take a nap. A cat nap. $100, please, to replace the tutu I might have rather torn, and this team will trade me to yours for the next game or show and forever. How about it?