Rigo's Place

Stories about the trials and tribulations of Rigoletto.

My Photo

As you can see from my photograph I’m a cat, but not just any cat I’m Rigoletto the world’s greatest cat. I can’t tell my age, you wouldn’t believe it anyway. My very favorite food is olives, the jumbo kind with the little red worm stuffed inside just in case anyone should want to send me some. I live somewhere in the U.S.A., but I’m not allowed to say where. Dad be afraid the town get sued or we get thrown out.

Sunday, September 24, 2006


I can’t believe I have so many friends who have written to me concerned about my weight gain and health. But I guess I’m still in trouble because I didn’t exactly tell the entire story. Mom gives us dry diet food but she doesn’t leave it out for us all the time. She leaves it out overnight, and then puts it away about noon so we don’t exactly get to nibble all the time; although I confess I nibble more than the others.

Exactly straight up six o’clock we get canned food. I say straight up six because we line up at that time by the door to where Mom feeds us and where our facilities are kept. We all have a built in clock that tells us when it’s dinnertime and our timer never fails. Poultry Dinner is our favorite. But I like everything, all flavors are great with me and this appears to be my problem with over eating. Mom divides a 5.5oz. can of cat food among us four cats I gobble mine down fast as can be, but my brother and sisters are not so fast with the chow as me. They take their time and always leave some in their bowl, I suppose for later. But there is no later, I come in behind them and lick their bowls sparkling clean. I stuff myself like pig!

What can I do? I love food and I hate to see good food getting yucky because my siblings have walked away. There must be millions of homeless cats all over the world who would love a taste of the food we dine on and let get yucky. So I’m doing my duty to not be wasteful don’t you think that’s a good thing, that I’m being a good guy? Please send me your thoughts.

And don’t you think I’m still handsome as can be even though I’ve gained a little weight. I believe I’d still make a great model for a cat food commercial they can take one look at me and see how much I love the food I’m selling.

God Bless,

Tuesday, September 12, 2006


I’m confused and I don’t know what to do. I want to be truthful but I’m afraid I’ll disappoint everyone and they won’t like me anymore, life if hard sometimes. I might as well get on with it and spit it out. It concerns my photograph, I’ve had so many nice comments about it and I want to thank everyone for being so nice. It’s my signature photograph, I use it on everything and I’m so proud of it but there’s a problem. Oh I hate to tell. You see the picture was taken when I was two and now I’m nine.

There’s a lot more of me today than when I was two. They tell me at the animal clinic I’m twenty pounds overweight and should be on a diet. I am on a diet, they sell Mom diet food for us cats but there’s something wrong with it we just keep getting fatter. Well the truth is out and I’m probably ruined.

I’m still sweet and handsome simply more mature looking. I want to post a more recent picture of myself but I thought I’d better warn my readers of the change time has brought. I must face it, I’ll never again be the me I was when I was two. All my photographs are first-rate the camera loves me, but none as splendid as the one taken when I was two.

My human sister Sherie M. of Louisiana took the photograph with her trusty camera those many years ago. She wants money for it but I won’t give her any. The reason the picture turned out so great it was taken on our patio and a darn, stupid bird landed in the grass not far from me. I was about to make my move when Mom reached over with her hand just in time and stopped me from destroying the brainless creature. I was in shock when sister fired her camera I wanted that darn, stupid bird and I would have had him if not for Mom saving his life.

That’s my confession and I hope no one will hate me for it. I wasn’t trying to fool anyone. I don’t want to get kicked off Gather or lose my Blog it will kill me it’s my path to fame and fortune.

God Bless,

Monday, August 21, 2006


It was one of the darkest days I could remember. Mom was in ballistic meltdown, Dad had spilled a pot of chicken broth all over the kitchen floor. We cats had never experienced such joy and happiness, wonderful chicken broth glistening on the kitchen floor for us kids to lap up. And the best was Mom hadn’t degreased it yet. Dad hates to degrease broth or anything else because, “that’s where all the flavor is.” Well all the flavor lay in a pool on the floor.

When Mom saw us kids run to the pool of chicken broth she became unhinged again. Get out of here she shouted at the thought of us tracking chicken broth over the carpet. The kitchen floor could be mopped but not the carpet, someone would die if that happened.

My brother and sisters departed the kitchen at full speed but I took up position in the hall to watch what would happen next. Poor Dad was beside himself he didn’t know how the pot could have slipped through his hands, he had just taken the chicken from the pot when the next thing he knew the pot was on the floor and a flood of greasy broth was pouring down the cabinet.

Get the microfiber mop and towels Mom cried. Microfiber is supposed to suck up everything up in its path well the microfiber mop and towels had never met Dad’s chicken grease before, but it did its best. Just before the micro mop and towels hit the floor Dad noticed me watching from the hall, quickly he grabbed a cat bowl and spooned some of the broth into the bowl for us kids to enjoy later. My Dad’s a wonderful guy; always thinking of us kids. I hoped Mom wouldn’t degrease it first and suck all the flavor from it.

We survived the disaster of the broth with the kitchen floor in better shape than before; I believe the chicken grease gave the floor a much better shine. Of course this isn’t the end of the story, the next day Mom reached in the lower cabinet to grab a pie plate and found it full of you know what. I hope this never happens to you, it could possibly wreck a happy home. Almost forgot, we got our bowl of chicken broth still full of flavor, Dad hid it from Mom.

Mom confessed that before she and Dad were married she reached in the frig for a lemon pie she’d made and dropped it up side down on the floor. Dad and me been wondering if anything like this ever happened to any of you folks, we sure would like to know your story.

God Bless,

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

I’m back after several months away due to my Dad’s illness. Dad’s much better and Mom’s now available to help me with the keyboard, as my paws don’t fit those tiny keys. They sure need to make them cat size, think I’ll give Bill Gates a call and ask him to design a keyboard for me.
Dad’s illness fell hard on me because I love him very much as do Baby, Callie and Peppy. My home responsibilities increased especially in the area of security. As you may know I’m Security Chief when my parents are away and at the time of Dad’s illness he asked me to fill in for him and keep Mom and my brother and sisters safe and secure. This kept me quite busy making sure all doors and windows were locked tight at night and then assigning the night watch to my brother and sisters who cooperated without too much fuss. After Dad came home from the hospital our nighttime duties continued but during the day we kept Dad company by crashing on the bed with him just to be certain he was all right.

As Dad got better my duties got fewer and I determined during my free time I’d put myself to studying how to become a better writer. I went online to find the best free writing school on the internet. Most of them didn’t measure up to what I was lookin’ for. I’m a free thinker and I want to develop a style all my own. That’s one reason I joined the Gather group “Free Thinking & Free Writing.” They let you do what you want, so long as it’s legal I guess. Not so them writin’ schools they all want you to do it their way, why they have so many rules for writin’ it’s positively nauseous. I signed up and soon e-mails flooded my in-box, absolutely overloaded it. They all had the same theme I didn’t follow the rules in fact they told me I didn’t have any rules, now that’s just what I was looking for NO RULES! Of course they flunked me big time, now I’m thinking of getting even with them and establishing my own writin’ school thus creating a whole new way of innovative writin’. Free thinking, free writin’ that’s for me.

Just to let you know I received my yearly post card from the lady doctor, my injections are due and Mom says I need a hair, cut standby for further developments.
Catch you next time
God Bless,

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Rigo’s Commentary

The headline screamed, PIRATES ATTACK U.S. NAVY WARSHIP off the coast of Somalia. What craziness is this I asked myself, surely someone got something bad wrong with this story. With my tail wagging I decided to check out the story with another internet newspaper that I trusted only to find the same headline. Could the story be true or have all the reporters put a little something extra into their morning coffee.

With my tail wagging in overtime I began to read about modern day pirates. The stupid pirates actually attacked one of our guided-missile cruisers off the coast of Somalia in a 30-foot fishing boat. These guys must have been eat up with the dumbness I thought. The pirates attacked our navy guys with what appeared to be a rocket-propelled grenade launcher. Oh, these poor guys have been at sea way too long, it don’t take a rocket scientists to figure out they need professional counseling really bad.

And whoever gave them guys that grenade launcher should be thrown in jail. I bet they didn’t even know how to use it. Never the less they fired the thing at our navy and you know our guys ain’t about to sit back and take it from a bunch of crazy pirates. Gunfire was exchanged and the pirates lost. One ended up dead the others were taken aboard our ship, patched up and hopefully sent to a shrink.

I asked myself why our navy didn’t blow the pirates out of the water and end their misery. Then it came to me, missiles cost tons of money and the pirates probably got their boat from Wal-Mart, it would have been a waste of taxpayer dollars. That’s our navy guys, always thinkin’ and lookin’ out for us.

Have a great day!
God Bless,

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Hello, Rigo Here,
The roof of my mind blew off the top of my head and I went into total spin out. To think I’ve been invited to write about myself by Gather.Com. What an unexpected honor, it is something I dreamed of but never thought it would happen to me. I was writing my Blog just for fun, didn’t even know if anyone was reading my stuff when out of the blue came the e-mail from the nice folks at Gather. Dad thought it was a hoax; such is his confidence in me. How they found me I’ll never know. To think of the thousands of talented writers around the world and they chose me. Why I’ve never even been to school, I have a degree in nothin’. I’ve not been a humble cat, but me is now very humble and grateful. I can see fame and fortune awaits me as I’ve hit the big time, there will be no stopping me now.
My name is Rigoletto after the opera of the same name, but my family and friends call me Rigo, so please feel free to call me Rigo all that opera stuff gets to me at times. I like to write about my life and adventures, I just put down whatever happens to hit my brain at the moment. I do all my own writing, Mom puts it on the computer for me because my paws are too big for the keyboard and I have trouble controlling the mouse – I hate mice!
Mom’s best friend Miss Marion the retired English teacher has criticized me because of my poor grammar. I almost gave her heart failure when I told her I’d been invited to write for Gather. “Someone is trying to pull something on you, send no money,” she warned wringing her hands. She taught English classes almost all her life, then in her senior years along comes little me and blows her mind because my grammar is terrible, my sentence structure isn’t the way she likes it and I only use punctuation when I feel like throwing something in because I like the look of it. The computer even tries to correct me, but I say, “No Thanks, I want to do it my way.” Me breaks all the rules and gets away with it because me is cat. Miss Marion can’t stand it she becomes unglued. “Everything I’ve taught he’s thrown away,” she screams wringing her hands.
Of course I threw away the rules, you can get rule perfect writers every day but none like me. I’m not a human writer, I’m a cat and my writing reflects who I am. I write the way I think and talk. I like to use me in my writings, I like to say me done this and me done that and Miss Marion becomes totally unglued. She needs to loosen up and have some fun. I like Miss Marion she’s my friend but I will not let her or anyone make me write like a human that would be boring and besides I am stubborn; such is the nature of cat.
I’m a spoiled rotten house cat and I know it. Mom refuses to let me go outside, her reason is I’ll get into trouble, which is probably true since I’m a cat and will want to do it my way. Also, Mom is very concerned with being clean and of course with those nasty little critters fleas. I hate them things they make you scratch all the time. She also doesn’t want my beautiful, luxurious fur coat to become a dirty, matted mess. I’m a good lookin’ dude as you can see from my picture and my appearance is very important to me so we’ve reached an agreement it’s best I remain inside.
As a kitten I was full of play and minded my manners as much as I could. I tried to please my parents because they made me a part of their life and gave me lots of love and plenty of good cat food. At an early age I learned how to control situations to my advantage. If I should get into mischief and Mom scolded me I would run and bury my face in the corner of the sofa; my feelings had been deeply wounded. This would bring both Mom and Dad on the run. “Why did you treat him that way, you know he can’t take it,” Dad would say. Then Mom would gather me in her arms, play Ode To Joy, and rock me until I fell asleep purring. This was my way of controlling situations and turning them immediately to my advantage.
The first day I hit their house I was introduced to opera. Mom had the Three Tenors singing and it didn’t take long before I knew every note them guy’s sung. Next, I was introduced to the Bacchanale from Camille Saint-Saens, Samson & Dalila. This became my signature music. It seemed to represent me; I’d race through the house like the speed of light then I’d go into a spin. The faster the music played, the faster I’d spin. To calm me after a romp and spin Mom would play Ode To Joy and rock me to sleep, she does it to this day.
The day my world crashed was the day my parents moved grandma here from Texas. You see, with grandma come her two feline mad hatters Baby and Callie. Grandma moved to the retirement home to escape them, but Baby and Callie moved in with us. My life was turned upside down when those two she-devils moved in and took over. I suddenly had monsters for sisters and they were not to be messed with as they were from Texas. The girls have chili pepper tempers, especially Callie who I believe is a south of the border girl who swam the Rio Grande and is illegal.
Next, came little brother Peppy. Mom discovered him under a bush in our backyard almost starved to death. We don’t know how long he hid in our yard before Mom found him but let me tell you he’s no longer skinny. He’s fat as a pig, but small because he didn’t get proper nutrition and medical care when he was a kitten. I criticize Peppy because he’s an intruder into my life like Baby and Callie. He’s young and full of energy and knows nothin’. I realize he needed a home and we were the only suckers on the block who would take him in. I suppose you think I’m awful the way I speak about him and my sisters but you see before they moved in I was known as little king. Dad was big king and I was little king. My parents thought I’d like having companions and not being alone when they were away. They no nothin’ I liked being an only cat and besides cats don’t run in packs like dogs we like our privacy, and I liked being little king, now I’m king of nothin’. Such is my life, on top one day, then rock bottom the next, know what I mean.
I must apologize to the nice guy who wanted to connect and read my stuff but the darn mouse pounced on the deny button before I could stop him and wham my new found friend went into cyber space. I want to be the most widely read cat on the planet that’s my goal, but the mouse sabotages me all the time. This was certainly no way to begin my career. I will kill the mouse one day! I do hope to get back the dude the mouse sent into cyber space. Be cool dude and try again I’ve gained control over the mouse and I want you as my friend.
God Bless,