“I am, I am, Hamish the cat. The famous Hamish McHamish was my second cousin. What? You’ve not heard of Hamish McHamish? He was a Scot, lived in St. Andrews, owned a bookshop, slept in the bookshop, knew everybody in town and talked to them. He even wrote a book! Hamish McHamish of St Andrews: Cool Cat About Town! Sure, Amazon says some human named Susan wrote it, but I know my second cousin. He did not lie!”

“I am, I am Hamish the cat! I’m almost as famous as my second cousin. I appeared on the evening news, sitting forlornly in a kennel at hiss – animal control – hiss. Well, to be fair, animal control did get me off the winter streets and over here to Feline Rescue, where the food is ‘Grreatt!’ Like my second cousin, I am orange and white. In Scotland, they call us gingers. I call me a Dreamsicle just in case my people aren’t fond of ginger.”

“I am a hunk. Also a dude. Youngish – probably 2 – 4 years old. I’m smart and purposeful. None of that bewildered kitten ‘what?-am-I-here?’ stuff. Hamish wants to play. Hamish knows who he is and what he’s about. I walk the walk and talk the talk. I am, I am Hamish the cat, and I am almost famous.”

“I’ve been a ‘Cool Cat About Town’ right here in Minnesota. I know the streets, the places to eat, and the places to say away from. What I don’t know yet is my forever home and my real people. Are you my real people? I think you’re a tree – I will climb the tree. I will look around the room. Uh, oh – I see a black and white dude strolling by. Oh, no, you don’t! Don’t stroll by Hamish….”