Smokey is the son of the kitten I had when I lived away from home my first year in college. Smokey had a brother named “Bandit” and a sister named “Cannonball Run.” Yes, we had a Burt Reynolds’ movie theme going on. Both his mom and siblings have passed, but Smokey lives on.

He loves sleeping on top of my computer monitor. If there is ever something new in the house (a box from the Post Office, a new table, a bag out of place), Smokey immediately claims it as his own by sitting on it. If you bring a laptop to my house and set it down, Smokey will sit on it. It’s the law. Smokey’s Law.

Smokey’s an inside cat, but he’s always trying to escape to have what my mom describes as “an adventure.” While I freely admit Smokey is probably saving lives and fighting evil when he escapes, I still prefer for him to stay indoors where it’s safe. Let the cops catch the bad guys. You stay inside so I can scratch behind your ears.

Smokey Facts

He is 50% fur, 50% awesome.

Smokey’s like Garfield, but without all the attitude.

Smokey’s meow has the ability to heal – I once put a dead plant in front of him, and it came back to life. True story.

At birth, God offered Smokey the ability to fly, but he turned it down in favor of extra furriness.

If Smokey was President, Osama bin Laden would cower in fear and surrender.

If Smokey was in your college English class, he would ruin the curve for you.

The letters in Smokey’s name can be rearranged to spell “awesome” in 15 different languages. French is not one of them, but only because Smokey fails to recognize it as a legitimate language.

If Smokey was on the Titanic, Leonardo Dicaprio would still have died, but much sooner. Also, the iceberg would have been too scared to hit the ship.