My buddies
I like dogs. But I'm a little afraid of them. Even the little ones. Most of them don't know it. My nephew dog, Sammie, is sure I love for him to jump on me and lick me. I don't tell him otherwise.
But cats... cats are my friends. I've lived with sweeties and meanies and in betweens. Their personalities amaze and delight me. They amuse me. I like to take care of them. These are some of my cats, new and old.
But cats... cats are my friends. I've lived with sweeties and meanies and in betweens. Their personalities amaze and delight me. They amuse me. I like to take care of them. These are some of my cats, new and old.
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Annie (08/12)
Annie was in a cage with her sister when we arrived at the shelter. They were barn cats, trapped and brought in to be rescued from a wild life that may not have been long in the wild. Annies sister got adopted while we were there. I saw the delight on the new moms face and know she went to a happy place. But then Annie was alone in the cage. I couldn't leave her there. She came home with Alex to become his, Gracies and Gypsies sister. It was a good decision.
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Katie. How could anyone be scared of her? She's afraid of everyone, even me. That's changing. We move one step forward, half a step back. Her biggest problem is that she prefers to pretend that she doesn't exist. That way, no one will notice her. But slowly, that is changing. It's fun to exist while waiting for the woman who will walk her to come home from work. It's fun to whine at 5 am to get the lady up for a walk. We call her the fitness expert.
It's a huge step, after living with cats for over 40 years, to get a dog. But we think Katie is worth it. She and the cats haven't decided yet whether they're good buddies or not... It'll be interesting to see how this family shapes up. |
Alexander (08/2012)
Alexander. We went to get two little brothers for Gracie. But first we went to the animal shelter. He was being called Tiny4 - a rediculous name that he didn't answer to. He's 18 months old and adorable. Also very loveable!
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Maggie is about 2 1/2 years old, and cute as a button. She has brought her little big sister out and taught her some good and some bad habits. She's also won her people's hearts. But not Annie's. Annie disapproves. Gracie can take her or leave her. Alex is bigger than she is!
Gracie - maybe!
She's a baby girl (see my first entry below). At five months she's climbing the curtains and in general driving us nuts. When she comes running to us, squeaking cheerfully, we can't help but smile.
She was found on a busy road running around under trucks and cars by a person who had a big dog already. So she was brought to my veterinarians office while Carla was having her bi-weekly fluid treatment. The staff determined she was about 4 weeks old, 4 ounces old and in good health but overtaken by fleas. So her first night in her new home involved a bath. We're not absolutely positive about her gender but we're pretty sure she's a girl. So we're calling her Gracie. She was given a grace by being brought to us and saved from those fast moving vehicles and probably dogs and other animals. She's a handful of energy and we adore her!
She was found on a busy road running around under trucks and cars by a person who had a big dog already. So she was brought to my veterinarians office while Carla was having her bi-weekly fluid treatment. The staff determined she was about 4 weeks old, 4 ounces old and in good health but overtaken by fleas. So her first night in her new home involved a bath. We're not absolutely positive about her gender but we're pretty sure she's a girl. So we're calling her Gracie. She was given a grace by being brought to us and saved from those fast moving vehicles and probably dogs and other animals. She's a handful of energy and we adore her!
Gypsie
With the whole house available to her she's transferred herself to the living room sofa. She still comes back to the fridge occassionally but it's not a safe haven from troublesome little sister! Gracie follows her adoringly. She tolerates it mostly and puts Gracie down on the floor when she's being too annoying.
My niece kitty came to live with me when her mommies asthma just got too bad to handle with 2 cats. Gypsie is a sweet cat, very territorial and shy. She and her auntie get along real well, as long as she doesn't beat up my old lady cats! So she spends a lot of time on the fridge out of trouble. It's warm, she's top cat and her brother Romeo can't follow her and bother her!
Gypsie passed away 09/01/2015. She had developed cancer which couldn't be eradicated with surgery, though we tried. She suffered a summer of upper respiratory problems. Poor cat would sneeze 15 times in a row! She couldn't smell very well, but she knew we were poisoning her food (with medicine) and so she'd carefully eat around and then go to the next bowl.
On August 5, 2015 Gypsie became blind. Totally blind. I've read stories of cats who acted almost as if they weren't blind. Not my little girl. She was sweet and brave but she was afraid and got lost easily, crying for help when she ended up under furniture. But she soldiered on and carefully paced her way around, usually sticking to the sides of rooms with her tail slung low behind her to let her know if she could back up if necessary. She'd be doing great, then get turned in a circle and then it went downhill from there. But she reacted with pleasure and gratitude when loved, whether by spoken word or a pat. We were so sure she'd enjoy a few more years. She sat with us during family hour and still enjoyed her meals. The respiratory infection finally cleared up. But the cancer took vengeance and kidney failure hit hard. She died at the veterinarians office. It was quite a blow.
My niece kitty came to live with me when her mommies asthma just got too bad to handle with 2 cats. Gypsie is a sweet cat, very territorial and shy. She and her auntie get along real well, as long as she doesn't beat up my old lady cats! So she spends a lot of time on the fridge out of trouble. It's warm, she's top cat and her brother Romeo can't follow her and bother her!
Gypsie passed away 09/01/2015. She had developed cancer which couldn't be eradicated with surgery, though we tried. She suffered a summer of upper respiratory problems. Poor cat would sneeze 15 times in a row! She couldn't smell very well, but she knew we were poisoning her food (with medicine) and so she'd carefully eat around and then go to the next bowl.
On August 5, 2015 Gypsie became blind. Totally blind. I've read stories of cats who acted almost as if they weren't blind. Not my little girl. She was sweet and brave but she was afraid and got lost easily, crying for help when she ended up under furniture. But she soldiered on and carefully paced her way around, usually sticking to the sides of rooms with her tail slung low behind her to let her know if she could back up if necessary. She'd be doing great, then get turned in a circle and then it went downhill from there. But she reacted with pleasure and gratitude when loved, whether by spoken word or a pat. We were so sure she'd enjoy a few more years. She sat with us during family hour and still enjoyed her meals. The respiratory infection finally cleared up. But the cancer took vengeance and kidney failure hit hard. She died at the veterinarians office. It was quite a blow.
Lodema
She made it to 24 years old, going strong but she was ready to go on Monday, August 8, 2011 . This is Dema, mother of 6. Only 1 lived past her. Carla (above) made it to 20 years old in 08/2011! Someday, I'm going to tell Lodemas' story someday. She was a very special little girl.
Cats who will hold a piece of my heart forever
Lodema came to my door twenty four years ago. Little did I know she would take my heart forever. Morever, she gave me six beautiful baby kitties that each took a piece of my heart, too. We've lost all of them now but their little presences are with me often in my thoughts. Here is my tribute.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when clouds are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away..
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when clouds are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away..
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Think these little black cats are all the same? Nope. At the top is Sweetness, the oldest boy. His litter mates were twins - Porker and Meenie. Twins are uncommon in the cat world.
The three sun worshipers
Dema's three youngest were Carla, Tamsen and Pearl.
Carla made it 20 years old, the last surviving baby of my youth. She liked being top cat but she sure did miss having other cats heads' to wash! The fosters in the back of the house and our new addition, Gracie don't count. They'd beat her up if they had a chance! Carla passed away on 01/28/2012.
Romeo
We lost Romeo the same night we lost Carla - a double blow. Her loss was a shock but not a surprise because of her age and kidney failure issues. His was both a shock and surprise. I'm just glad he knew how much we loved him. He gave as much to us as we gave to him.
He almost died before he came to stay with us permanently. He is my sisters cat but her asthma made it impossible for Romeo and his sister to stay with her anymore. One night he woke her up yowling and ran away. He'd thrown a blood clot into his paw. The doctors didn't think he'd make it because of his heart problems and the blood clot and also some anemia. But he's survived very well in our little house. He gets into lots of trouble!
He almost died before he came to stay with us permanently. He is my sisters cat but her asthma made it impossible for Romeo and his sister to stay with her anymore. One night he woke her up yowling and ran away. He'd thrown a blood clot into his paw. The doctors didn't think he'd make it because of his heart problems and the blood clot and also some anemia. But he's survived very well in our little house. He gets into lots of trouble!
Why I Own No Pets
I don’t own pets. It disturbs me to be called a pet owner for several reasons, though at this time four cats do live in my home. I don’t own them, though.
I am a free, adult human being. Yet even in my home I have rules to abide by. If I make a mess I clean it up. If I kick off my shoes in the living room I’m expected to set them out of the middle of the floor so no one trips over them. Likewise my cats have rules. They’re expected to use the litter boxes provided for them. They can’t lift food out of their bowls and lay it on the floor or play with it (much).
Besides rules my household enforces duties on me. I wash dishes, especially the ones I’ve cooked in or used. I do my own laundry. My cats likewise have duties. They entertain me after a long days work. They scratch on their scratching posts (assumedly, instead of the furniture.) My mother cat Lodema raised her babies. She remained on the job long after they grew up.
Like me, my cats renege on their rules and duties sometimes. Then they want to argue, whine or hide. Odd. I do those things too, when I’m in trouble.
If my cats are free, why don’t I let them roam? I let one of them out for a few minutes on my patio occasionally, but I follow her around and yell at her for getting too close to the fence. Part of my reasoning goes back to rules. If I let dishes pile up they may attract bugs. If my cat goes freely through the neighborhood she may get hit by a car or attacked by a dog. She doesn’t know that, but I do. So I make a house hold rule - my cats don’t roam. Besides, the neighbors have the right to some expectations. They expect me to mow my yard and my cat to stay off of theirs.
My cats are reasonably smart creatures. They know not to claw me or bite me. They know when it’s breakfast and dinner time. They were able to learn how to use the litter boxes and scratching posts and toys. Each of my cats have a schedule, just like I do. They follow their schedule carefully. But they can be flexible. For example, they don’t get lunch when I go to work. But if I’m home they might get a lunch. How can I say I own a creature that knows how to convince me to share my chicken sandwich to the point of making an extra sandwich, without the bread?
My personal faith teaches me animals don’t have souls. But my experiences with them for most of my life have taught me they do have spirits, feelings and minds of their own. Each one is unique and special. For me, I was chosen and honored to have my Lodema march into my home and accept it as her own. She paid her share of first rent and now mortgage through the joy of her presence and the babies she’s brought to us in her youth. Many people choose their pets instead of being chosen. But if you examine the relationship carefully you will find you are not a pet owner. They live in your home as a part of your family, even if that part is of the family pet.
It’s fine to have a pet in the same sense of having a child. There will be rules and duties. But there is thought and spirit and personality in animals as there are in persons. So don't call me a pet owner.
I am a free, adult human being. Yet even in my home I have rules to abide by. If I make a mess I clean it up. If I kick off my shoes in the living room I’m expected to set them out of the middle of the floor so no one trips over them. Likewise my cats have rules. They’re expected to use the litter boxes provided for them. They can’t lift food out of their bowls and lay it on the floor or play with it (much).
Besides rules my household enforces duties on me. I wash dishes, especially the ones I’ve cooked in or used. I do my own laundry. My cats likewise have duties. They entertain me after a long days work. They scratch on their scratching posts (assumedly, instead of the furniture.) My mother cat Lodema raised her babies. She remained on the job long after they grew up.
Like me, my cats renege on their rules and duties sometimes. Then they want to argue, whine or hide. Odd. I do those things too, when I’m in trouble.
If my cats are free, why don’t I let them roam? I let one of them out for a few minutes on my patio occasionally, but I follow her around and yell at her for getting too close to the fence. Part of my reasoning goes back to rules. If I let dishes pile up they may attract bugs. If my cat goes freely through the neighborhood she may get hit by a car or attacked by a dog. She doesn’t know that, but I do. So I make a house hold rule - my cats don’t roam. Besides, the neighbors have the right to some expectations. They expect me to mow my yard and my cat to stay off of theirs.
My cats are reasonably smart creatures. They know not to claw me or bite me. They know when it’s breakfast and dinner time. They were able to learn how to use the litter boxes and scratching posts and toys. Each of my cats have a schedule, just like I do. They follow their schedule carefully. But they can be flexible. For example, they don’t get lunch when I go to work. But if I’m home they might get a lunch. How can I say I own a creature that knows how to convince me to share my chicken sandwich to the point of making an extra sandwich, without the bread?
My personal faith teaches me animals don’t have souls. But my experiences with them for most of my life have taught me they do have spirits, feelings and minds of their own. Each one is unique and special. For me, I was chosen and honored to have my Lodema march into my home and accept it as her own. She paid her share of first rent and now mortgage through the joy of her presence and the babies she’s brought to us in her youth. Many people choose their pets instead of being chosen. But if you examine the relationship carefully you will find you are not a pet owner. They live in your home as a part of your family, even if that part is of the family pet.
It’s fine to have a pet in the same sense of having a child. There will be rules and duties. But there is thought and spirit and personality in animals as there are in persons. So don't call me a pet owner.