Contributed by mkiskowski1
About a year before adopting our kitten, a badly, beaten-up, scrubby tuxedo cat showed up in our driveway. A friend helped my husband and me to fix up the old worn-out cat that had probably been previously owned since he liked to go for rides in the car. It was love at first site and he adopted us. Probably because we began to feed him. Who knows what he did during the day, but every night he would meow for us to let him in. Not long after, we began to see many black and white kittens in the surrounding neighborhoods. My husband named him Geezer. One night Geezer did not show up. I walked up and down the block, calling out his name only to find he had been killed by a car. Approximately 2 weeks later, a neighbor who lived across the corner from me had seen Geezer and a kitten in her back yard. She called me to say the kitten was obviously farrel and was the spinning image of Geezer only with Cleopatra eyes. It took up about 3 months to capture her and bring her to our apartment. My husband is Russian and in polite Russian society every acquaintance or friends is addressed by their first name and their patronymic (the father’s first name). Read the first chapter of Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace and you’ll get my drift?. So in our Russian home exists a beautiful black and white tuxedo cat who rules the house as a true diva. Once she came into our home she has shown no desire to ever go outside again. We think she is Geezer progeny, thus her name is Gazeena Geezerevna Catsinovskaya. (skaya is the feminine ending for a Russian surname otherwise it would be Catsinovski).
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