Oh, you want to hear about how I, Safetycat, became the star of Best in the West Safety? Well, let me tell you the tale of my rise to fame. Grab your snacks, because this is a purrfect story!

I was born in 2014, in the wild, wild suburbs of Las Vegas, Nevada, where the glitter of the Strip never reaches the strays—like me. My mom was a wildcat, living off the kindness of local cat caretakers who’d throw us some snacks when they felt generous. She didn’t remember my dad. We never talked about him, but I’m pretty sure he was a rock star of a cat, based on how fabulous I turned out.

One fine spring day, the humans decided to round up all the strays, and surprise, I got caught. Off I went to the shelter with my mom, who was way more chill about it than I was. But, hey, I was just a baby back then. We were adopted out pretty quickly, and I landed in a house with two boys and their dad. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Pizza? Chicken wings? Spaghetti?! Heaven. My tummy was like, “YES, please!” but guess what? It hurt. A lot. Not so fun after all.

Anyway, the boys grew up and decided that I made a great punching bag. I got blamed for everything—and I mean EVERYTHING—like knocking over a glass of milk that was, no joke, two feet from where I was sitting. So I had to defend myself. And, okay, maybe I scratched and bit a little, but hey, a cat’s gotta do what a cat’s gotta do. Eventually, I was shipped off to the Las Vegas Animal Foundation with a fancy label: “Tummy issues. Doesn’t like kids. Big Bitter and expert scratcher.” Honestly, it wasn’t the best vacation spot. It was cold, lonely, and I wasn’t a fan of the food. I lost weight, but not in the cute “look at me, I’m so sleek” way. I was just stressed.

Then, cue dramatic music, one day, this blonde lady comes along. She stares at me like I’m some sort of furry masterpiece. And she even tried to touch me! What?! Who does that? I was so shocked, I just froze. Then, she came back with a second person (maybe a backup plan?), and they stuffed me in a plastic carrier like I was a suitcase. Next thing I knew, I was outside, and there was fresh air—so much fresh air! I meowed my little kitty heart out on the way to her house. I was basically singing, “I’m free! I’m free!”

And wow, her house was huge. I had my own room with carpet (luxury!) and TWO beds (I can’t even pick one, they’re both so comfy). There was a litterbox, clean water, and brown pellets that were surprisingly tasty. Best of all? My tummy didn’t hurt anymore. I was living the dream!

I wasn’t the friendliest at first (can you blame me after all that?), but I started warming up to my new dad. He reminded me a lot of my old owner, so I trusted him. My mom calls me Safetycat (so official, right?) or “grumpy” or something that sounds like “big boy,” but with love. Oh, and I saw a picture of myself once. There was a blue background and everything. It was like, whoa, that’s me!

Now, I get to help my mom with serious business. I travel to her office, where I supervise her safety videos. I’m definitely not a fan of her phone camera, though. She’s always snapping pics of my majestic face. I’ve even become a star in her safety videos—Safetycat is kind of a big deal now, folks. I help pick out PPE (that’s Personal Protective Equipment for you non-cat folks) and entertain her staff with my charming personality. For my efforts, I accept kitty kibble as payment, but the real rewards are a great mom, a safe home and a warm bed at night.

So yeah, I’m now a top-tier safety representative for Best in the West Safety. I work for snacks, but I live for the pets. Life is good, my friends. Life is good. 🐾