“You like the party?""Is it in honor of anything?""My cat's birthday.""Oh." She glanced around. "Where's your cat?""I dont know. He ran away."-Magnus & Clary, pg.221-”

“You like the party?Is it in honour of anything?My cat's birthday.Where's your cat?I don't know, he ran away.”

“She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling my cats tail- you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were part banshee. She didn't laugh."-Magnus to Clary, pg.228-”

“Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten."My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look. Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right. "It's Cat," I repeated firmly. "Cat Raven.""Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy.”

“What cat? Oh! MY CAT. The cat… that is mine. Oh, she’s... ” I had said it was a she, right? “She’s fine. All meowing and purring and other cat things.”

“I survived a divorce, no children and come to Paris three days per week. My cat ran away on a love adventure; don't know when he will be back.”