Oh Pen-Pen, how I love you more than I should ever admit in a blog, or aloud in general.  You’re my favorite cat, and I know Melonball is jealous.  But I say it anyways – you are my favsie kitteh.  I probably sound so crazy, but I care not.  You are the cat for me.
I found Mr. Penny-Lane in a Pet Supermarket sponsored Humane Society cage in Tallahassee, Fl.  Even though I owned no pets, I still found my way into pet stores in college.  When I passed “Super-cat’s” cage he pawed at me through the metal barrier, so I opened the door and out he jumped into my arms.  It was love at first meow.  (Again, I know I sound crazy).  I begged my friend to let me use her address to adopt the cat, then talked to my then-roommates about hiding him our deluxe-private-townhouse-dorm.  When all was set, the cat came home!  Naming him was a ridiculous feat that I look back still to this day and wonder what in my college-crazy-brain possessed me to name the male cat Penny Lane.  I regrettably wonder why Jeeves wasn’t good enough for him?  His tuxedo fur and demeanor resemble that of a butler perfectly.  Alas, my male cat is plagued with a girly-name, which ended up suiting him in the long run due to his prissy personality.
Penny loves a good bag of Baked Lays, crispy french-fries, and really any human food he can get.  The dog persistently chases this fatty away from her kibble, too.  Never leave food out to cool, because you will surely find it on the carpet with kitty-claw marks that unmistakably belong to the Pen.

He sports a dark side, modeling a Hitler-look when you don’t feed the fatty.