Mama named me Ulysses, she was a Yank, Union girl. Funny how that works because you just can't find a more Southern gentleman than your's truly..Ulysses R. Jones, at your service. Ah, I have your attention; then let me take the stage and give you my story. I was a house cat, living the life..indoor toilet, canned food, it was all good. Then one day, I found myself in the woods, dark, wet, scary . I made my way to a light at the edge and begged a morsel of food...okay, that was a little over the top...I actually meowed until they opened a can of pâté. Unfortunately I caused one of the humans to sneeze or I would have found my new home. They took me to the vet and we'll skip that part of the story...I just can't bring myself to talk about it. I lived there, in a cage for a couple of weeks until someone called SWAT to pick me up. I am living at the "Shop," with an indoor toilet and pâté. I just keep landing on my feet! BUT, this is not home...it gets lonely sometimes and they get fussy when I rearrange the furniture. I am looking for that perfect place called HOME.