“Squeak – and hello! I am Bellissa, and I’m a kitten – a very striped kitten with one orange spot atop my little kitten head. I like people. I like people a lot. I do not like other felines – not kittens, not cats, not anyone with pointy ears and a tail. Don’t like raccoons and possums, either. But I like you. You are a people. You walk on two legs, you don’t seem to be sporting Dr. Spock ears, and if you have a tail, you’ve hidden it well. Let’s be friends!”

“I’ve been advised that I’m about 6 months old, definitely kitten material, and that animal control sent me here to see if I couldn’t find me some kind, loving humans who will take me in, call me Their Cat, and make sure that I don’t walk the streets of Minneapolis again. I didn’t want to – really, I didn’t.”

“Bellissa means “beautiful” in some language – I’m not sure what. Italian, Portuguese, Klingon? The Urban Dictionary says it means “The name of a beautiful, charming female. She's probably a bit stuck up, and really stubborn. On the other hand, she's sweet when she wants to be.” Not bad, not bad at all. Pretty good description of me – because I am sweet when I want to be.”

“As for all those other creatures that call themselves cats? They are imposters. They are not true cats. I am the only descendant of the two cats who made it to Noah’s Ark and rode out the flood. Those other creatures? Mere hybrids of possums and coatimundis! Not in my class! Don’t wear true stripes! I am an endangered species. Adopt me. Protect me. Hold rallies in my name, Bellissa! Save Bellissa! Bring $120. I am the real thing!”