My daughter and I adopted Bella from the RSPCA in July 2007. We saw her picture on their “Adopt A Pet” page on their website. She was 6 months old at the time, and we didn’t think she’d been mistreated, because when we went to meet her she was very friendly and did a whole lot of leg rubbing and purring. Not sure of her breed, but we think she’s an Oriental, with some Siamese, although she doesn’t talk that much, which is symptomatic of the Oriental.

We think she is the smartest cat in the word. She knows about physics and semiotics.

She knows that if she stands up and leans on a door that is closed with her body weight, it will open. She knows that when my daughter’s alarm goes off in the morning, she is awake, and Bella runs to her door, waiting to get in. She knows when I make a smoothie for brekkie, as opposed to making toast. And she knows the difference between ice cream and plain ice (one she loves and will follow you around for, the other, she completely ignores). She sleeps through the night, putting herself to bed (on my bed!) around 10pm and doesn’t budge until 6am.

She knows when we get home from work or school, and without fail, she makes a grand entrance (usually from my bedroom) by running into the lounge room, scratching on her post, waiting to be made a fuss of. She doesn’t like the red biscuits in Whiskas (and will pick them out of her food). And she knows when the tap is on in the kitchen, and will jump up for some fresh water. She can pull the string of her own mechanical mouse (still trying to capture that one for YouTube), and she knows when I wear flannie PJs as opposed to a singlet, because she will place herself up on my shoulder for a cuddle.

She is probably smarter than most people and we absolutely adore her!