Just when you thought it was safe to open the back door....... JACK was born on my mother’s back step!  His birth mother, The Captain (the very young new leader of the ferals) apparently didn’t know what to do with a baby, so she left him for us.  We found him, one hour old, still wet and shivering.  No “rescue” groups would take him, so we were suddenly up to our ears in kitten milk, weeny bottles and piddle pads. 

Because kitten duty is so intense (feedings every 2-3 hours around the clock) my mother and I shared Jack for the 1st month, trading off every few days, or until the one on duty fell over.  When he was super tiny, he lived in a piddle pad in my winter hat -- just his black-topped head sticking out.  When he sucked on his bottle, his ears flapped.  It was so cute you could faint.   When he started toddling, I made him a playpen out of a domed sandwich screen.  It was decorated with embroidered bees and flowers.  He would try to catch them, and invariably fall over on his wobbly baby legs.  One day at about 4 weeks old, he put a paw under the rim, overturned the screen and walked off.  That was the end of his babyhood.  It's been Kung Fu and Ram Jam ever since.

Jack loves having 2 homes and 2 sets of friends, and so he continues commuting.  Also because.... well..... remember Smith in The Matrix?  He multiplies.  He can do Kung Fu in every room while simultaneously headlocking Julie, dive-bombing your ankles and toilet papering the house.  We can only take a week or so of that before we send him back to The Piranha Sisters.  Sandra makes him sit in the closet.

Jack is a Taurus.  He enjoys rock hard, uncooked pasta straight out of the box, emptying the cabinets of all their contents, and all forms of physical overexertion .  PS: He mutters.  Any clue?  Anyone? 

Email for Jack can be sent to jack@thepridecartoon.com -JD