Picture me sitting daintily in a chair in a well-furnished Victorian parlor. My torti ensemble contains pale peaches and soft roses and delicate grays and browns. All is well until you notice my quite red eyeliner, strung quite far across my face. "What's that about, my lady?" Why, it's about the fact that my name is Alma, Spanish for soul, and my face is showing you the depth and sincerity of your lady's soul. I may wear lace and the almost scent of fading roses, but there is fire in my soul - and in my heart - and it yearns to burn for the very special human(s) for whom I am destined.

Truth is, my special human(s) don't have to offer me a well-furnished Victorian parlor. A poorly-furnished one would be just fine. So would a nondescript Danish modern apartment - as long as you are there with me. I am a sweet, gentle, loving soul. I am also a sweet, gentle, loving cat. Pet me. My, yes, that is nice. It's OK if you study my face; I know it is full of surprises; every now and then I catch a glimpse in a mirror. I should be more humble, but, truth is, I'm not. I'm just loving and proud.

We are reaching the end here, I see. Now you're studying my startling tufted feet. Lots of cats here, I've noticed, have itsy-bitsy tufts between their toes. I have definite, serious Real Tufts among my toes. I like them; I am proud of them; and I wash them. You wouldn't want a parlor cat with dirty toes now - of course not. It's all quite simple - just bring $100 for my use of this temporary parlor that brought us together. Then let's go wherever you live, be there forever, and pretend, every now and then, that it's 1882, and Victoria is still the Queen.

PS: I currently reside at THE SHELTER (not in foster care). If you can't stop in but would like to know more about me, please call 651-642-5900, ext.3. Thanks!