CFA Southwest Region

Hi.  My name is really Alexandria, but they call me Big Al.  I am a very pretty British Shorthaired cat, and I am a CFA Champion!

My human family decided that we should go to the Phoenix Feline Fancier’s show in downtown Phoenix.  Bear in mind that we live in the cool pines of northern Arizona, and normally I would protest with extended claws, since I hate heat!  They assured me it would be nice and cool down there in December, so I entered my travel crate for the drive.  I like to put one paw in the crate, then turn and stretch, preen a little, and look bored.  It drives them crazy!

The air was wonderfully cool, mom hadn’t lied about that!   She looked like a Tibetan Sherpa getting out of the car, and my dad looked like a pack horse.  I couldn’t help but giggle a little at what lengths they go to in order to see their friends and give me my shot at “granding”.

We waddled from the car toward the show hall.  I don’t waddle, of course, even when I’m not being carried.  The light finally turned green, and we started to cross.  There was a crash.  Wonder why dad is lying in the street?  What new game is this?  And look, he spread all kinds of great stuff on the pavement.  Cat teases, mmm.  Love those.  Baby food?  Cat food?  Bottles of water?  This is really strange.

Oh, no!  Dad has fallen on the metro rail tracks!  Mom is trying to get him up!  My crate is close enough to see that mom’s watch said “7:35 am”, and I can see her glancing at the metro rail sign that says “Next train, 7:38 am”.  As amusing as this new game seemed, I am beginning to worry.  I actually like this big oaf! 

Mom can’t get him off the tracks.  The city is as deserted as a litter box at a dog show.  I hope she comes up with an idea soon!  She is back at the cross walk where I wait.  What the heck?  This is no time to open the show shelter!  She can’t be thinking of showing me HERE?

Mom starts tucking pads, hammocks, cuddles, just about anything soft that I use for comfort at the show, under dad.  She convinces him to roll over onto my cat show stuff, and she moves it to make more soft transport as he rolls to the curb, and off the tracks.  So there’s dad, in the gutter in downtown Phoenix!  He’s near the fence and is able to get up from there.  My cushy show stuff is filthy!  My dad is filthy!  They shouldn’t allow cat shows anywhere near this kind of dirty!  If they think I’m going to sit in my show shelter on all this blackened fleece, they will feel my wrath!  Oh, darn.  My nails are clipped.  

Mom gathered all the stuff and we went home.  I got to ride with Dad and I kissed him the whole way back.  What a guy!  Actually laid on the metro rail tracks so I wouldn’t have to go to the cat show! 

P.S. – he was fine by Monday, just proving what a great man will do for his cat!