CAT TALES

So that you may enjoy the 'tales' posted here, you might need to know the cast of characters and a little about their history.

In May of 1989 a very tiny torte colored cat climbed a tree and looked down upon my humble abode and decided that was where she'd like to live. She moved right in and I marked the calendar and held my breath. Sixty-two days later, she had four kittens. Two yellow tabby males and two torte-colored females. And, the adventures began...

Squirt

Soaking wet, Squirt weights all of five pounds. She's the Mother of four kittens, who along with herself, form one of the most unique cat families, I've ever known. Squirty's devotion to her family is nothing short of amazing and she passed her sweet temperament and good manners on to her children. There's no way of knowing her exact age, but our vet guessed she was just barely a year old, if that, when she came to live here. She's a little slow moving these days, but at eighteenish, she's still very healthy, bright and has outlived her four children.

My tiny, tiny, Squirty has gone. When Bob left, her heart broke, and she decided it was time to join her children once again. She was acutely aware that she was alone, in a house full of cats she had no connection to, and with each passing day she slipped further and further away from me. With her passing, it was the end of two decades of love, companionship and trust. She is buried under the shade trees surrounded by her children. For the first time in my life, I do not have a cat to sleep with me. The Bengals are all still to hyper to sleep through the night, but I have hope that one of them will find my quiet company during the night hours more desireable than rough housing with the other cats. A girl can hope.

Good-bye my five darlings... I will miss you every day for the rest of my life.

Spidey

Spidey is a ball of energy. An avid hunter, she has thrives on country life. She still insists on supplementing her meals with mice, moles and the occasional bird. Her favorite trick is to "high-five," especially while I'm trying to work at the computer or watch television. Trouble is, once you do high-five her, she won't quit. She sits waving her paw in the air in front of your face until you give in and return the salute. When winter is approaching, she likes to stockpile mice, bringing them in the house and putting them in the tub (they can't jump out). Her one vice, she's always the last one in at night. From day one everyone has been trained to come inside at twilight. I rarely have to call one of them in, but if I do, it's always Spidey. She loves the heat, and in the summer she goes out their window the moment it's opened and doesn't come in until curfew.

Once again, I have to sadly report that a beloved friend has left me. Spidey passed away on the evening of December 29, 2006. She will be buried next to her sister Amber who is buried next to their brother Charlie.

Charlie

My Charlie One, the complainer in the family. Every time he would open his mouth, he'd whine. Thin as a rail, but a big eater, his trademark was the white tip of his tail, which he always held straight up. Coming through the tall grass the tip of that tail would be waving high in the air the only part of him visible as he made his way home. He also liked to announce that he was on his way. You could hear him coming long before you could see him. He and Bob were inseparable. They would play all afternoon mock fighting, chasing each other up and down trees, and once, together they stalked a herd of deer coming across the acreage.

Sadly, Charlie is gone. I always knew he'd be the first to leave me. He died of heart failure, at the age of thirteen. He's buried under one of the trees he used to race up nearly every day and quite frequently, in the late afternoons, his brother Bob will lay on the stone covering his grave sunning himself.

Big Bob

Big Bob Baby One. He is my bud. He sleeps right next to me, using my arm as a pillow, every night. Bob, in his prime, weighted twenty pounds and could bring down a full-grown rabbit. Problem is, he preferred to hunt and catch snakes. He doesn't eat them, just likes playing with them. Now down to fifteen pounds, Bob is a teddy bear who loves to snuggle and have his tummy rubbed. He's very sensitive and when mad, he sleeps on the couch. Every day when I come home from work, it's Bob who walks up to the car and greets me, often being very vocal as we walk to the house, telling me everything that happened while I was away.

When Charlie left us, Bob spent hours sitting in the drive, watching for his brother's return. It was over three months before he gave up his vigil.

My darling Big Bob has left me. All of my "baby ones" have gone, only their Mother remains. Bob was with me through many hard years that I might not have survived without him by my side. I feel his loss so deeply, it has robbed me of words.

Amber

This is one special cat, I could write volumes about Amber. She is my conversationalist. She talks about everything. She even talks to my 92 year old Grandmother on the phone. She's also a hero. When the heater in the house caught fire, she woke me and saved us all. Her favorite prey, rabbits. Many a time I've come home to find a rabbit loose in the house. Amber sleeps on my shoulder, and every night I fall asleep feeling her soft breath on my cheek. Once a hefty thirteen pounds, she now barely weights as much as her mother. Like many old cats she suffers from kidney and hyperthyroid disease. We're coping and I hope she'll be here for a while longer, keeping us all safe.

It is with the deepest sadness that I must tell of my darling Amber's passing. She died this past Easter Sunday. My heart has a hole in it that can never be filled. She lies under the shade trees beside her brother Charlie.

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