They call me Lambchop and keep saying, "Oh, you're so cute, I could just eat you up." I really hope they're vegetarians. But I'm getting ahead of my story.

You'd never know it to look at me, given my regal carriage and stunning markings, but I once walked the streets of Richmond at night. Even the best of women can sometimes be led astray, and that's exactly what happened to me. But the Tom who so gallantly courted me left shortly after we met, and I was forced to face my new condition alone.

I was brought to the SPCA by a good Christian man who, I must admit, was unaware of my fall from grace. He simply thought I was a lady needing shelter and that the SPCA would provide me with some. I spent my first night cursing my fate in a darkened room with barking dogs and crying cats. Who but I knew the condition I was in? I didn't even have a warm blanket to drop my babies on, only newspapers and shredded paper.

The next morning the people turned on the lights and discovered my first two kittens. Several hours later I delivered my third. The folks crowded in around my cage, oohing, aahing, and clucking. Some seemed appropriately impressed by my accomplishment, while others seemed dismayed. I couldn't figure it out.

But I soon realized the problem--they thought this was no place for a lady with newborns. So they arranged for me and my little ones to reside for a few weeks in a very nice house while I taught my babies a thing or two about the world. Mostly we stayed in a large room with wood and tile floors. The air was moist and scented from the clothes and powders they sometimes put into the machines. At first I was pleased to be staying in such a quiet, warm place, until I discovered another resident of the house--a juvenile delinquent!

This ruffian would lift her tail and strut her teenaged stuff right in front of me. I immediately recognized the poor influence this would have on my growing kitties. Bravely I hissed, then threw myself with claws flying in the upstart's direction. Realizing she was no match for me, she fled the room, and that was the last time she was to bother us.

Then it was time to get to know my babies, who were only three days old when we arrived at the house. All of my children inherited my cute bobbed tail, but the similarity ended there. Lace was the oldest kitten and clearly the valedictorian of the family. Beautiful as well as smart, she came into the world with a white ring around her neck that was truly as delicate as lace. She was the first of the crowd to open her eyes, to learn to use the litter box (at only 4 weeks, I'm proud to say), and to eat moist food rather than milk.

Stubby showed the makings of a gentleman. Once he learned to open both his eyes, he quickly learned to walk with dignified air. He was the confident one, and always went running to the door to greet the little girl when she came home from school.

Though Lily was his twin, her white nose told everyone just what a prep school girl she was. She usually stayed aloof from the crowd, watching the cats and humans at play from a distance. But she was not too proud to depend on my milk. She was the last to eat moist food.

I enjoyed the few weeks my children and I had together. When they nursed, I would lie lazily on my side and meditate on the warm feeling of motherhood. At times I became impatient and shook them off, preferring to jump up on the table and nap undisturbed. I taught them how to go to the bathroom and indulged them (briefly) when they chewed on my ears. After a few weeks, though, I knew it was time. But before the real excitement began, we had to make a visit to make sure that I wouldn't be tempted by another good-for-nothing Tom, and neither would the babies. So the kittens and I made a little stop at the vet's first.

Then the people took us to a very busy place they called the State Fair. It seemed to me that our family had suddenly become famous. Everybody wanted to hold us all the time, and they would coo and stroke me and made silly noises. I liked best the people who rubbed the top of my head really hard--those were the only ones for whom I would purr with conviction.

It took only a day before Lace, Stubby, and Lily had found new families to care for them. And although I loved them dearly, I was quite content to stay another couple of days on my own and be petted and admired. But my turn too came around, and now I have a wonderful family all my own. And when they call me Lambchop, I just lie back and smile.