It started with a pregnant stray on Easter Sunday. Now we're eight cats deep, completely outnumbered, and fully at peace with that. Follow Lance & Edan as they document the daily chaos, the miracles, the danger floofs, and the mountains of kibble that make up life at the Manor.
Easter 2023: a tuxedo street cat showed up on the veranda, very pregnant, completely unbothered. We named her Lucy. She gave birth to five — Finnius, Purrcy, Persia, Konga, and the extraordinary Stella Jean. Then came Wade and his one-eyed pirate sister Nessa as a bonded pair. The Minion Army was born. We were never in charge. We just do the feeding.
She's from the hood — a street cat who found Lance on the upstairs veranda and spent two weeks making friends while he worked from home. She moved in, lived in his lap for her entire pregnancy, and has never once forgotten that she chose us. She's the spicy one. Not one to back down. Exclusive lap cat — but only for Lance, because he earned it. Everyone else can apply in writing.
Beat FIP Wet at 2lbs on black market meds before FDA approval. Survived congestive heart failure. Given 3 months. That was 2+ years ago. Three cardiologists are stumped. She is not. Gentle, fearless of the vacuum, loves head scratches so much she'll wake from a dead sleep just to get pets — then wait for more.
Born a little off — huge ears, smaller head, tiny body with a pinch in his neck that made him sound like a broken squeaky toy until an acupressurist fixed it. A fighter now, but mostly keeps to himself in the bedroom. The brooding intellectual of the manor. Those ears don't match the head. They never will. We love them.
Big, toned, handsome, and the biggest goofball in the manor. He's a little dim — gets voluntarily locked in the coat closet for hours at a time because he ducks in quick and simply doesn't want out. Plays rough with his sister Persia. Has never once reconsidered the closet situation.
Graceful, elegant, and genuinely smart — smart enough to open cabinets, drawers, and Amazon boxes if she smells something interesting. Looks nearly identical to her brother Purrcy. Acts nothing like him. Persia has assessed every situation and knows exactly how it ends. Purrcy is still in the closet.
Like FinnFinn but with territory. Konga has claimed the entire upstairs room and veranda as her personal kingdom and will fight most anyone who overstays their welcome — except Lucy. Even Konga knows better than to push her luck with mom. Sleek, dark, and watching everything from above.
Substantial in size, surprisingly sensitive in soul. For a big cat, Wade is a total fraidy cat around the others unless treats or play are involved. He has claimed Edan as his mom and will come running the moment she gets home. If the love doesn't come fast enough, he will loudly let you know. Those belly-up brush sessions are not optional.
Sweet, sneaky, feisty, and pack-smart. Cautious but pretty fearless and wildly curious. That one golden eye misses absolutely nothing. She has claimed Lance as hers and summons him to her favorite spot on the stairs for pets — on her terms, on her schedule. You come to her. That's the deal.
At just 2 pounds, Stella Jean was diagnosed with FIP Wet Disease — typically fatal. The FDA hadn't approved the treatment. We sourced it from the black market. She survived.
Then came the congestive heart failure. Heart medications. Diuretics to keep her lungs from filling with fluid. Three months to live, they said.
That was over two years ago. She just completed her final echocardiogram series. Three cardiologists reviewed her case. Their official conclusion? They're stumped.
Today Stella Jean climbs everything, plays rough with Purrcy, loves boxes of every size, and sleeps by the fireplace with her whole face buried in a blanket like she hasn't got a single worry left in the world. She earned every bit of it.
She was never supposed to survive. The vet gave her three months. Three cardiologists can't explain what happened next. We can. Her name is Stella Jean, and she simply decided not to follow the rules.
Lucy spent two weeks on the veranda making friends with Lance. Then she moved in, had five kittens, and the rest is documented chaos.
One eye. One big belly. Two cats who arrived as a bonded pair and immediately split the house into their personal territories. Featuring: the yawn heard 'round the manor.
Eight cats means eight personalities, eight territories, and one very strategic litter box layout. Here's what actually works when the Minion Army outnumbers you two to one.
FIP is terrifying and the treatment landscape is confusing. Stella Jean survived it on black market meds before FDA approval. We're sharing everything so you don't have to start from scratch.
Bringing Wade and Nessa into a house with six existing cats was a strategic operation. It took patience, slow introductions, and a lot of treats. Here's what worked.
Looking back at Stella Jean's early symptoms, some were obvious. Others we'd never have caught without knowing what to look for. Read this before you need to.
We have multiple. Wade has stress-tested them all. Here's our honest breakdown of which sizes actually survive the Danger Floofs and which ones don't.
We've tested approximately eleven scratchers. This survived Wade. Barely. But it survived. Also doubles as Nessa's box of the week.
Can one automatic feeder handle eight cats with different dietary needs? Short answer: sort of. Long answer: Persia figured out the override mechanism within 48 hours.