Posted on 03/08/2012 8:52:24 PM PST by West Texas Chuck
This is my list of all the cats I can remember since I cared about pets.
The early 80s: Tuffy. Tuffy was the baddest of the bad. Belonged to my hippy bud Mark. Had very little of his ears left. Too many late night fights. My bud Mark went off to hike the Appalachian Trail one summer and left Tuffy in my care. Tuffy got out of a window in my apartment one day and was never seen again. Good cat, but a wild child who went off somewhere to battle and make babies, I guess.
The late 80s: Austin and Isis. Austin, patchwork calico. Austin was the flatcat, that beast would lie on the bed flat as a pancake with her tail twitching, flattest cat I ever knew. Good kid, finally succomed to old age. Lots of laughs, fun to live with, not a badass. Isis, the black cat, always afraid and hiding, but a very loving animal when she got to know you. Her kidneys finally failed and we had to stick a needle in the back of her neck and give her downloads from an IV bag every other day, she hung in for a year and a half after that but finally had to be put down. Fine animal, I miss her.
90s: Non Mots and Xena. Non Mots (it's French, look it up) was a stray who laid a couple of batches of kittens in our garage. Very pretty tortoise-shell calico, we finally took her in. I'll never forget one time when she moved her kittens into a planter full of rain water in our backyard. It was so pitiful, we took her and her brood in and gave the kittens away one at a time. My roomie had Non Mots fixed and we made her our house cat. Very good beast once she settled into being kept. Rarely made a sound but she would sit in your lap and drool when patted. That was one damn good cat. Xena, the Warrior Princess. Siamese, got her through adoption as a tiny kitten. Still around, living with my ex-roomie, much darker than when she was young. Well natured, fun to laugh at and hold. I saw her a couple of months ago. Has learned to be the dominant female in a house full of large dogs. I have a bunch of fun photos of her as a kitten, jumping at and biting things like a cat will. Good kid.
The modern era: Cricket, Missy and Rocket. Cricket is the noisy one. Meows constantly, will wake you up in the middle of the night. Very old and skinny now, but the friendliest cat I ever knew. Always wants to go out, total escape artist. When she finally passes we will bury her outside the perimeter. Always wanted to be on the other side of the fence so why not? Missy, gray tabby, is mean, still claws and bites me even when I have been patting her for an hour. Try trimming that one’s claws, you’ll bleed. But all in all, a good kid. Queen of our abode. Rocket, my cat. Orange tabby, we found him under an old dishwasher on the front porch of the house we moved into. Covered with fleas, we had to dip him in Dawn a few times to get rid of his pests. I know his daddy, Stevie, the ruler of our ‘hood. Rocket is a good kid, he loves me, but the jumpiest and weirdest cat I’ve ever known. Afraid of every sound and movement, but a lover boy when he is in his element. Loves water, will stick his head in any water dish or under any faucet that is running. Loves ice cubes, but runs like hell when you make a sound.
These are the cat’s I have known, hopefully I’ll know a few more, but in no hurry for the current ones to fly away.
Wish I could remember all the cats in my life. But there are a few.
Sheba - brown point Siamese. I don’t have much recollection of her, aside from the fact she was the only cat my parents actually got as a pet (we lived in the city at the time). We left her with some friends when we went away on vacation; she ran off and we never saw her again.
After Sheba, we moved to the country and had a wide assortment of barn cats. At that point, as far as Dad was concerned they were there primarily to keep the rodent population in check. I don’t remember many names, or specific cats, but there was one point where we had three queens on our property who all kittened at once. We went from three cats to over 20!
Cleo - tortoiseshell cat that belonged to one of my college roomates; she adopted him shortly after he moved into the house we shared (he was there first). Probably the first cat I really bonded with. She would sleep at my feet, and at least once during the night I’d kick her off as I turned over; she’d just hop back onto the bed and curl up next to my feet. My roomie took her with him when we all moved out after graduation.
Apple - orange tabby female. Got her about a year and a half ago as a birthday/anniversary gift for my wife. We adopted her from a local shelter. From the moment she was handed to my wife, Apple wanted to cuddle. She’s an endless source of entertainment, and still acts like a big kitten at 3 1/2 years.
Patch - another tortoiseshell. She was originally a stray who lived in our neighborhood when we moved into our house. I began putting food out for her last summer when I noticed she’d had kittens in our back yard, and slowly she warmed up to us. We finally took her in; turns out she was pregnant. She had her babies this past Monday, and as soon as the kittens are weaned we plan to have her spayed. She’s turned out to be a very affectionate cat; while she doesn’t always care to be picked up, she will climb into your lap if you sit long enough.
My first cat (I was four) was named Blackie (just a Tom). The child of the manager of the apartment we lived in threw him down the stairs and broke his back. I beat the crap out of the kid and we were evicted.
My next cats were SinSu and Uno (both Siamese), they past of old age.
Then George (Siamese mix), he died in a tragic accident.
Then Carousel and George Two (both Siamese), died of old age.
We had Orange Kitty (Orange Tom), died of old age.
No cats since, I love cats. Would have dozens if I weren’t allergic, which I found out after all the cats in my life.
What a fun post. Thanks.
Only one I truly recall liking was Iris back in the 80’s. Anytime she would bring home a fresh kill she would sit on the porch and meow until you came to look at it. Only then would she take it away and eat. She brought home a Jack rabbit once about as big as she was.
This has your ping list written all over it.
Bookmark for tomorrow.
We had a few cats during my lifetime. My favorite was Star. We got her when I was in 2nd grade in 1959. My parents had just bought the house we grew up in and we had been there just a week. A nice older gentleman was walking down the street with this scrawny, dirty black and white kitten following him. This nice man graciously gave this kitten to my younger sister and myself. We excitedly ran inside the house to show my parents the kitten the nice man gave us! After my parents told my sister and myself un no uncertain terms that we DON’T accept gifts from strangers, we kept Star. She ended up being a very wonderful pet we had for 17 years. She died of old age.
We have three now, but the cat I grew up with, Sweetpea, is the one I remember. She had 61 kittens during her 17 years, survived growing old with a family of five kids, and had a paralyzed tail and a pin in her jaw from being accidentally run over by my mother. When we were little, we would jump on her dead tail, and she would just look at us. :) She was a tough old bird, and as sweet as her name.
Having pets is full of ups and downs.
They make us hurt when they pass, but man they are so much fun when they are among us. There are no funner memories than how silly a pet can be. That is years of happiness.
Thanx FReeper.
61 kittens? Wowee, did you name them all ;)
“God made the cat that we might caress the tiger’’. Quite a list. I’ve had loads of cats over the long years. Loved ‘em all.
One of our cats, Butterscotch (big orange tabby) love to have a plastic laundry basket placed over him. He would sit there poking his paws through the holes like he was in kitty jail.
Of course, he would NEED to relax during the day, as at night he stalked the family. Woe to anyone who got up to get a drink of water...you never knew from which direction/height/trajectory he would come. Nothing like a 25 pound missile flying through the air towards your head to wake you up but good! He loved that “game”..LOL!
As a child my brother had a cat, in the 1960’s, Blackie...whom I ignored. Since then my husband and I have been owned by several...
OJ, (about 1983) who almost died after a really bad fever where he was pulling his hair out and leaving it in my briefcase...the vet said he likely wouldn’t survive the night and to get him out of his office, or he’d infect all his other cats...he died of feline leukemia a few years later;
In 1988 we got Stripe and Grey ) (hey, we named these 2 sisters whose mother had been run over, Micro, and Mini, but we kept saying “the Grey one”...or “the Striped One”...and they stuck for 17 years...
And, now, Boo. Boo literally dropped into our yard at about 6 weeks, and 14 ounces, and his feral mother ran....he stayed. The craziest cat we’ve had....he’s probably upstairs giving my husband his good night “kiss”....he lays on his chest, purrs loudly, kneads the blanket, then puts one paw on one side of his neck, the other on the other side....purrs, and then BITES and holds his bite on his cheek, while continuing to purr....my husband can handle his bites....he laughs, sticks his finger in his mouth, Boo jumps down, and is gone for the night.
Fluffy— my big sister’s white cat
Rosetti— the cat my hippie brother brought home from college
Poncho— a little gray kitten who ran away
Misty— selected him out of a litter because he held his tail awkwardly. It turned out that the tail was just kind of heavy for him. As an adult, it was a long, fluffy, gorgeous tail. He was my main cat growing up— a dear friend when I needed comfort.
Grady— our current cat. Softest cat ever. Just having him around makes our home cozier. Nice to kids. Best napping companion on a Saturday afternoon.
So many little buddies since my first kitten after returning from RVN. Little black guy I called Absence, as in no color at all. Got beat up by a tom and died of blood poisoning while I was away. Plenty more since, too tired now to think through them all.
“God made the cat that we might caress the tiger’’.
That’s nice. I always say the only reason I’ve ever wanted to be a super model was so I could get to pet a lion or tiger!
I’ve had a lot of cats too, but I’ll talk about Puff, our second cat. He was a demon to me but also a pal. He used to chase me around the house and really scratch up my legs, but only on Saturday. My mom finally figured it out, he was chasing my nightgown (Saturdays were the only days I didn’t get dressed right away!).
But he would also play catch with my, very nicely in our NYC apartment, rolling the ball back and forth. He was the only cat I ever had that would really play WITH you that way.
He grew to be a very mellow cat and lived a long time.
“Rosetti— the cat my hippie brother brought home from college”
LOL, that’s a purrfect name for a hippie college student’s cat!
Let’s see if I can recall all my kitty cats:
1. Thomas P. Cat ( turned out to be a girl...a tuxie at that)
2 Thomas P Cat ( also turned out to be a girl a calico)
3. Nekosan) my cat when I was stationed in Okinawa..given me by a papsan of a village because he had not seen blue eyes before.
4.Stokley..a black cat..great cat..had to give him up when the apt manager found out I had a cat...
5. Frodo and Bilbo Baggins..
6 Pippin, an orange kitty that learned how to open doors to the point we had to put deadbolts on the door to keep him in.
Mangas and Mingo...twins..tabbies born in VA.
Miss Priss and cranky manx,
Mocha..my 3 legged black cat
Missie, a Tonk that adopted me
The Gray Fox, a Russian blue that adopted me.
Taco, an orange kitten rescued.
Nacho my little Catholic kitten abandoned as he was a sickly little kitten orange..loved to polsih your shoes with his little paws,
Rosie, a tortie
Buffy an outdoor kitty we looked after
Scraggles another ratty looking outdoor kitty we looked after
YumYum a big bluepoint that wandered into our yard and we could not find his owners,
Ebonie our little black cat
Cookie our big Tuxie
Mr Peepers our big outdoor tabby
Ziggy ( aka Kisa = cat in Icelandic) our little outdoor pal In the 35 years I have been married, we have had only 2 months without a cat.
Well after the first couple of kitties I started thinking that if I were a cat, I’d stay away from YOU. lol but then the stories turned normal.
Took in my sons cat a few years ago...”Kitty” was her name. A long haired Australian Tree cat. Always glad to see me when I got home from work...and though an old cat she was pretty spry....my son had rescued her from kids who were abusing her as a kitten.... Put her inside his jacket and carried her to his apartment and said “That will be the end of that”. She had no hearing as a result of that abuse. Had to put her down a couple years ago but she gave me much joy having her here...
“Kitty Cat”...is newest addition just a few weeks ago. Found him on my deck during a storm....had wrapped the tarp covering my grill around himself...soaking wet I brought him in. What I thought was a she ended up a He...ha! Took him to the vet and cleaned him all up, his paws were callosed and nails long so the vet said he’d been on his own for quite awhile. He has no teeth!!! also Had an upper resperatory infection, now all better....next will get him his shots.
Interesting is he is Micro-shipped....no answer from owners phone (disconnected) nor mail thus far. I’m keeping him!
Has taken awhile for him to adjust...but wants nothing to do with going outside at all! As my landlord said ,”That cat just hit the lottery! He has a nice bed, good food and I even buy fresh chicken I cook up for him as treats. He totally would not go in my bedroom at all no matter how much coaxing and loving given. Then this very morning I woke up to “Cat” pressing his paws against my arms to wake me up!!! What an unexpected surprise!
I’ve watched him go from a very unhappy struggling cat to a healthy one...and slowly but surely he’s now made this his home (castle)....and thinks he owns me!
He’s a ten pound Orange Tabby cat....his one ear kinks where he’s been in battles...and his face has some scarring too...so he’s lived a rough life out there....but no more...he’s safe here now...BTW he loves snuggling up when I watch movies or am on the computer.
Miranda aka Mandy - a calico, part Persian or some other long-haired breed. Stunning cat, mostly black with white paws & ‘ruff’ with a few reddish tan markings in her long & exceptionally silky coat & on her face. .... lived at the barn, but as soon as my brother showed up with the pellet gun, she was by his side .... instead of a bird dog, she was the ‘bird cat’. When he married and moved to the property next to the barn, she moved herself in with him and his new wife and lived her last days in comfort as a mostly inside kitty. We have a picture of her sitting on the sofa with a Christmas bow on top of her head. Unfortunately, she became deaf in her senior years and on one of her rare forays outside at age 16, she was ambushed and killed by the neighbor’s dogs who had gotten loose.
Peter Paws - an orange striped cat with white paws and a white stripe down his nose. He was the King of the Barn and was quite the mouser. I always knew when he had been successful because he met me at the tack room door and told me all about it. The horses all liked him and I would often see him hop up on a stall door and rub up against a horse’s face which they tolerated and seemed to enjoy. He had a wonderful life at the barn until he finally went into early stage heart failure and developed severe kidney stones at the same time around age 12. The decision was made to put him down - he was miserable and in pain and the vet didn’t think he’d survive the surgery for his kidney stones because of the heart issue. Peter is buried under the wild cherry tree where he liked to sit and observe his domain.
Noah. He was born in my apartment linen closet, along with 4 brothers and sisters. His mom belonged to my roommate at the time and despite my warnings to the contrary, Tyrona had been let out while in heat. She tried to have the kittens in the bed with me one night, but I shooed her off to a box we had prepared for her in the linen closet. Noah picked me. He was the oddest looking of the kittens, long giraffe-like legs, gawky and awkward. When he finally grew into his legs and tail, he was quite a handsome cat - a gray tabby. He followed me around the house and when I washed the dishes, he would wrap his paws around my ankle and go to sleep on my foot. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to him so when the other kittens were adopted out, Noah stayed. We dumped the roommate & the apartment and moved to an old farmhouse in the country, but I kept him indoors. He was my best ‘bud’, a really sweet kitty. At 5, I found a lump on his shoulder that turned out to be malignant. He had surgery, but the cancer was back in 3 months with a vengeance. He’s buried under the apple tree in the back yard in his ‘blankie’ & with Mr. Mouse, his favorite toy.
Murphy - another calico. I really love calicos, they have quite different personalities from non-calicos. My vet had done research on calico genetics while in vet school. She told me all calicos (except for extremely rare genetic anomalies) are female & the genes that make them so, also give them their unique personalities. The best way to describe calicos is that their personalities are multi-dimensional as opposed to being more ‘flat’. Murphy was rescued by a friend who saw her in the jaws of a German Shepherd and somehow managed to save her, but she couldn’t keep her .... so I got talked into adopting her. Murph was a hoot - always into something and if I displeased her, she would take revenge. When I finally decided that I’d had enough of the cats in the bedroom covering the bed with hair (she insisted on climbing under the old coverlet I put on the bed to keep the hair off the good bed spread) and locked her out, she chewed the ears off my horse statue in the den and pooped on the rug. Then she sat there and watched with big green ‘innocent’ eyes while I almost stepped in the poop & discovered the damage to my statue. She was also the kitty who, if I was ever crying, would get in my lap and pat my face with her paw. She was a great cat.
Denis (the Dryer Menace) - a beige striped stray that I got from the vet when I took Murph in for her first checkup. I had discovered Murph climbing in a lamp and hanging out the top of the shade when I got home from work one day and the vet suggested she needed a friend .... and the vet just happened to have a kitten that would fill the bill. Denis, the first night I had him, crawled in the back of my dryer (it was not connected to the vent at the time) and ended up lodged in the blower unit - we had to take the dryer apart to get him out. Because he was not handled as a little kitten (he was captured by the vet’s husband who made a dive and caught him one day at their barn where he was living wild), he was shy with everyone except for me - would hide behind the door when my nieces came over with his eyes tight shut. His theory seemed to be if he couldn’t see you, then for sure you couldn’t see him. He also would leap off your lap if you sneezed and disappear for an hour or so. He and Murphy became best buds within a week and slept with their paws wrapped around each other. They were both pampered kitties until about age 14 when due to serious health problems, I had to put them down - ironically, both at the same time.
No kitties since them .... I miss having cats, but my situation doesn’t lend itself to having a cat right now. I do enjoy my brother’s two cats: Raisin, a Maine Coon (boy, is he a neat kitty!) and Patrick, a Chartreux (or so my niece claims - she doesn’t know for sure because he was adopted from an animal shelter). Patrick is quite an odd character and he does have a Chartreux characteristic of being almost mute. I get my kitty ‘fix’ when I visit and both cats seem to understand I am a former ‘cat person’ so they indulge me when I want to have them in my lap for a while.
Had a pair of cats back in the 70’s that were brother and sister. I called them Seek and Destroy.
After I had them neutered, I changed their names to Cease and Desist.
Huey, another black kitteh, a major friend, traveled fro SoCal to NoCarolina with him, and girlfriend brought him back to SoCal. Poor thing died of feline AIDS, after I poured $$ that I did not have into trying to same him.
Little Bit, a homeless kitten rescue covered with fleas. Unfortunately, he loved everyone and disappeared.
Squirt, little guy that bonded to me solely, died when my first wife ran the dishwasher with him in it.
Missy, a torty calico that was a bit older when I got her, and she never quite came around, particularly with other feisty kittens harassing her. She left for another family far as I know.
Couple others that got lost in the debris of divorce.
Sydney, first kitten after being single again. Very loyal buddy, was with my 16 years until he went in his sleep far as I could tell.
Loco, the damnedest cat I ever had. Rescued him from coyotes around my Dad's place. One eye stuck shut. Vet cut away some lesions, but said it was congenital, some virus passed on from the mother. Other eye was so-so. Never slowed him down. Crazy cat, hence his name. Without any depth perception, he would do insane high-wire balancing acts, and occasionally crash and burn. No big deal.
He would play catch with you. Flick a ball to him, he would swat it back to you quite accurately. Also loved "train and balloon rides": would jump in a wicker waste basket and wait for you to push him around the house, or hoist him in the air for a hot air balloon ride. Most cats would freak out, not Loco. He eventually died from what we suspect was kidney failure, as he damn near died years earlier from eating Ibuprofen off the counter.
Miki and Keko, our current buddies. Miki got moved from SoCal to Hawaii, Keko was born here. 4 and 5 years old, hope they chug on at least 20 more.
Literally LOL!
Went to your homepage and am curious about one thing:
How many bike tires did you go through to get to the top of those "hills"?
Excellent posting. :)=^..^=
Smitty was our son’s cat. He raided my daughter’s room and killed the hamster. We buried the hamster with this epitaph - Smitty was his bane, Smitty was his sorrow, Smitty wants to dig him up for breakfast tomorrow. Had a kitten named Traveler - had a sad demise - his epitaph - Here lies Traveler, he didn’t travel very far. He ran into the street and got hit by a car. Smitty liked to climb up the rickety stairs into the attic in our garage, I guess to sniff out the possibility of squirrels or birds up there - getting down was tricky and one day he slipped and broke his neck.
We named a series of cats after food - Ginger, Garlic, Vinegar - I don’t remember his name but one cat we didn’t neuter but got him a vasectomy so he could still have fun but not generate kittens... that was back in our early hippy days.
My favorite cat was probably our first Russian blue - got him at the pound - only one in the litter who looked at us. His name was Chewie because our dog used him as a chew toy (Chewie loved it and the dog was pretty gentle) but Chewie was usually covered in dog slobber. Chewie would not eat unless he had one of my husband’s dress socks in his bowl to “chew” on. He would lurk around the house, in the laundry room until he found one and then drag it to the bowl. Finally we gave up trying to rescue the socks and just left one in there for him to use.
When our kids were young I would give them each a dollar and we would go garage sailing. My younger son at 3 was offered a free kitten. We then went to the store and paid $1 for cat food. We named the cat Jelly Felicitous Roseberry and called her Roseberry. She had 16 kittens before we figured out that she could have more than one litter in a four month period. The second litter was born in her litter box. Oh, and remember Smitty? Long after the last litter was born and sent off to good homes, we were given Smitty who was a kitten of about 8 weeks and she settled in and started to nurse Roseberry.
Roseberry was not happy when we moved two miles south of where we had lived with her since she was a baby so she kept running away and making it about a mile. She had a tag so they kept calling us and finally we gave her to them since she seemed happy there. My kids were teenagers by then and they had little ones.
We now have Bob... a pixie bob or Desert Lynx. Weird and stupid cat but very big and beautiful. He loves me but is not obsessive about it. We love all our furries but frankly do not plan on replacing them as they move on to furrie heaven since we are ready to have less responsibility as we retire.
She was about two years old when I got her and morbidly obese - 15 lbs. After about a year, one day she tried to jump up on the bed and fell back and broke her hind leg. That took two vets and $1,800.00 to perform surgery on that leg since it was broken so bad. She's been on a diet ever since and is down to about 11 lbs. She doesn't like getting up on the bed anymore until early morning when it's time to wake me up.
She's strictly a house cat but during the warmer months I'll leave the doorwall to my back deck open and she likes to go out there and watch the birds on my bird feeder. She won't wander off, she'll only go so far as the bottom step then lie there.
Then there was Felix when I was a little kid living with my grandparents. He was a big, long haired, black as coal male cat that adopted me when I was walking home from the dime store one day. For all the mean things I used to do to him, he still loved me. There was a river beside my grandparent's house and I remember on two occasions I decided to take him down there to see if he could swim. As soon as I started to throw him in, he was able to climb up my shoulder and down my back, I think the scars are still there.
For some reason, Felix hated my cousin Pat. Pat would never come into my grandparent's house if the cat was inside because whenever he did, that cat would come charging from wherever he was in the house and literally launch himself at Pat's head...Just like all good cats, Felix eventually got old and sick so my grandparents had him put down.
In Alaska, I had:
Little Frances, a Persian. Homer and Jethro, brothers. Spike. Scuzbutt (found the baby almost dead in a dumpster with gastrointestinal issues, hence his name). Fubar.
Later:
Duchess — a stray I adopted while living in Hawaii, who later moved with us to California, NY, and back to California again. Homer #2, pure black.
Current:
Noodles, a Siamese. Ginger, little yellow kitty. Fiona, tuxedo kitty. Lilly, pure white with blue eyes (not deaf). Siblings Mel Torme (the Velvet Fog), Maris Crane (scrawny but spunky) and Duke. Lilly, Mel, Maris, and Duke are rescued ferals brought in within the past year. There’s something about TN and ferals.
I still cry for the ones no longer with us.
My niece has siblings “Indy” and “Cody”, short for “Independent” and “Codependent”, who are true to their names.
..and all the poor ferals I’ve fed and have passed or out there somewhere...like Sissy, Old Guy...;(
“Indy” and “Cody”, short for “Independent” and “Codependent”
LOL,those are very cute names.
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Amen.
My first cat was called Amosandandy. I had no idea it was really two names!I was about 6 years old. My parents listened to Amos and Andy on the radio, and I just passed the words on to this tiger cat.
Pansy came along when I was about 10, and a stray calico cat was sniffing our pansies. We now have Pansy X111, so you can see how many Pansy kitties we have had — and none related. (We also have Daisylll.) This present Pansy is a tortoiseshell tuxedo, who was born in a basement along with many other cats. She is very standofish as she probably didn’t have any love in those first few weeks. But altho I can reach out to pat her, I have only actually cuddled her twice. But — she wants to be near us all the time.
All my/our cats, over the years, have all been female and have ben tri-color for the most part. Also -— many many doubled pawed.
However, we did have one male cat — Teddy, who was a loving yellow tabby. Heart of gold, brave as a lion, and the sort of cat that all the kids wanted to take with them when they went off to college. He was the protector of the other cats in the house. His brave side knew no bounds, however, he was killed by a pack of dogs that had been allowed to run loose in my quiet town. I knew they were around, and so kept the cats in at night. Somehow, Teddy got out. I’ll never forget that night. Needless to say, our present kitties are all house cats.
Love these cat posts!!
Smudgie, a black and white female who would bring a mouse from the field and wait on the windowsill for us to get up so she could show us the mouse, then jump down and give it to her kittens. Dad liked kittens as we had a plethora of mice in the grain fields.
Cado, a calico who would follow me everywhere.
Pricilla, a Siamese cross that I rescued from a tree after dogs had killed all the rest. She would take on anything and win. It was dog vengeance at its best. She brought home a large muskrat to her kittens. Bewildered kittens didn't know where to start.
Julius La Oranga, orange tom a stray from my Grandma's house. Lived a long time, but would only eat the center of his Friskies, just leave the little points of the star.
Sydney, white male with an attack mode for every bare foot stuck out from the covers.
Coonface and Snowball, two sisters my folks had forever.
Miss Peach, pale orange and white Persian lost her battle with diabetes at age 16 and 2 months. Miss Peach and I loved NASCAR, we would nap and wake up for the wrecks.
Still loving....Bootsie, long hair tuxie female rescued from a construction site, and Mittens, polydactyl black and white shorthair, a real character.
Gosh, the memories.
First cat I can recall came with my father’s second marriage, a nasty little black cat by the name of Precious. Was always very suspicious - didn’t like my dad at all - and wary of others, tended to hide under the bed in the master bedroom. She mellowed out in her later years and lived to be over 15; she passed away on my chair one morning several years ago. We buried her in the woods by our house.
Second I remember is not within the immediate family: my great grandmother had a black cat with a white belly named Wussy. Fattest. Cat. EVER. Passed away years ago, can’t remember much else.
My first cats as a kid came as a combo; one for me and one for bro. Both were sisters, black/white mixes (mine more white, his more black, with a black spot on her nose). Mine was Whiskers, his was Ratue (pronounced ‘ra-oo’; it went from Rascal to Little Rascal to Little Ratue to Ratue. Don’t ask, I don’t know). Whiskers had an adorably squeaky meow and would hop in your lap while you were on the toiler to nuzzle your face. She got run over when she was only a few years old, and was buried in our backyard by the folks before I woke up. Ratue lived on much longer, becoming the ‘bossy cat’ after Precious passed away. She lived on for many years after that, but age finally broke her down last year. Our family had wondered how to handle it, but when her organs started failing, she died in front of us over the period of about 30 minutes. It wasn’t pretty (and it served as a lesson: “Death isn’t easy.” It also helped us when our golden retriever Flare became ill and had to be put down not long after, because we didn’t want her to suffer like Ratue did).
There was a stray cat who lived in the neighborhood around our last house: looked like a Burmese/Siamese mix, or a dark Ragdoll. Wary at first (he showed up because both Whiskers and Ratue were outside cats, so we left food/water outside for them; cue neighborhood feline hotspot), but he was probably the most loving cat ever. Of course, dad wasn’t approving of everyone else’s love for the cat, so we named him Tom after dad. We eventually took him in, and brought him with us on the move (which was an experience in and of itself: most loving cat becomes demon cat if he’s put in a box, apparently; the experience was so traumatizing that he ran off the first chance he got and wasn’t seen for months afterward). He had the biggest cheeks, and his meowing sounded like talking. Furthermore, he wanted to be friends with everyone. But being a stray, he was no stranger to scuffles, and eventually caught feline AIDS, so he had to be put down a couple of years after the move.
Next up was a male Ragdoll by the name of Dusty. Like Tom, he had beautiful blue eyes, but he occasionally had a wide-eyed look like he didn’t know what was going on. He was also a friendly and outgoing little cat when Ratue and Flare were the only other pets, but once they passed on, he mellowed out some. The outside is HIS territory: he’s at least 10 lbs, but he’s not fat. Ergo, he’s bigger than all of the other cats around, and they ALL know it (he’s quite defensive of his territory). There was one period where his leg got wounded and needed a skin graft to remove some necrotic flesh, and THAT was an odd experience due to the leg cast (note: cats do not like leg casts), but he healed up well from that. As of this point, after we got another cat, he’s become very mellow, letting anyone love and hold him now. He’s like an old man, in that he’s got a ‘live and let live’ mentality.
Speaking of the other cat, Kingsford (after the charcoal brand, due to his coloring). He’s a kitten from a relative, our lone inside cat (which is the only reason he and Dusty coexist, because Kingsford wants to play...and Dusty doesn’t). A charcoal gray tabby with a mix of dots and stripe patterns, he is ALWAYS on the move. He’s fidgety and crazy, and he doesn’t run like a cat; his steps plod everywhere. At times, it’s like he’s in one spot, then he’s forty feet away in the next instant, he’s so fast. Furthermore, when he flattens his ears, they look like little wings. At first, he wouldn’t talk that much due to how he was found alone in the woods...but since moving in with us, he’s become quite the squeaker. Naturally, being a kitten, he wants to play with Dusty and establish dominance. Dusty, being much bigger and capable of smacking him around easily, doesn’t...as if he can’t be bothered dealing with a young whippersnapper who doesn’t know any better.
So yeah.
My wife and I have five cats. 4 females, one male, all spayed. “Muffin’’, Abby’’ , “Maxine’’, ‘’Zoom’’ and my boy “Scooter’’. They’re all well behaved and beautiful. “Scooter’’ is my pride and joy. He’s the handsomest little devil you ever did see. He’s black and gray, with stripes all the way down to his tail and a beautiful white chest. He’s built like a leopard, strong, powerful forearms and a very stocky chest. Best gosh darn mouser I’ve ever seen. he’s gotten five of them over the years. He’s well-behaved, always goes in his litter-box, digs and scrapes away making sure he buries his ‘’business’’ way down there. And if the girls don’t do a good job, he buries that too. He’s never once put a claw in the furniture either. Problem is he’s diabetic and we have to give him an insulin injection twice a day. He’s been ok with this for a year now but latley he’s decided he doesn’t like being given his injection and he bit my wife recently. I’m upset because if he doesn’t get his insulin, well I don’t want to think of what I’d have to do. I think there is an oral type insulin. I have to check with the vet.
Mocha was my 3 legged cat and she lived to be 25 Followed by Taco who lived to be 20 and one week, followed by Missie who was 18. Mangas was 11..the others would be a guess as they adopted me at various ages..guess the vets can tell by the teeth about how old they are.
I miss em all....
“Spot. One wild and large grey tabby.”
Must go with the color. I have a few feral cats that come through my property, and have trapped some of them to take them in for neutering. One of them was a big gray tabby tom, who as soon as the trap closed began thrashing around inside the trap. He hissed at me every time I bumped the trap or moved it some way he didn’t like. In general he was one really pissed-off furball!
Also, once I got him to the shelter, he tried to make a run for it, but the fellow who took him managed to catch him with a net.
I’ve seen him back in my yard recently. He gives me a pretty wide berth.
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