Our family has always had cats. My father always wanted a dog, but my mother was afraid of them and passed that fear onto me. My siblings have all had dogs and often a few cats as well, but not us. When we were building the house, a beautiful golden retriever wandered into our yard and stayed for a few days. The boys really wanted to keep him, but then he disappeared again.
Our first family cat was Momma Kitty. She had 71 kittens and lived for twenty years. Her last kitten was Steve and my first cat, Hiya. He lived to be 19.5. In the early years of our marriage, we had five cats. Dr. Powell used to come to the house and give them their shots. Along with Hiya, we had Smudgie, Sundance, Truman and one other whose name escapes me. Then there was our beloved Willy, the nurse cat. He was never well, perhaps a weak heart, but he was incredibly loving and devoted. Whenever someone in the house was ill, Willy was right there, taking care and keeping them warm. I remember one Christmas when Colin was very ill with a high fever. Willy stretched out his full length next to him. They were nearly the same length! When my father was dying and I wasn't sleeping, Willy never left my side. Willy died six months after Dad and I cried myself sick.
And of course, there was dear, sweet Puddles. Puddles Newhouse Cobb. A Maine coon cat, we got him when we were building the house and he was the most social cat ever. He had a fan club in the neighborhood because he would go out and greet everyone as they walked by the house. We had to check vehicles in our driveway because he would jump in a window and go to sleep in the back seat. He was a very big boy, reaching 22 pounds by the end of his fourteen years. He died peacefully in front of the Christmas tree which was very appropriate because he loved Christmas.
Not long after Willy died, Colin's friend discovered two little gray kittens in a ditch along Farrell Rd. One was solid gray and one was gray with white markings. I couldn't bear to have another solid gray cat, so we adopted Miss Molly. We got Patrick from my brother Steve because we thought Molly was lonely after Puddles died. She wasn't. She has hated Paddy since the day we brought him home in 2003. Molly has been the dominant kitty for most of that time, but now the power structure has shifted. Molly has now been with us for sixteen years and Paddy is eleven. We love them, but when they pass on, we will not be getting another kitty.
Molly's first selfie!
No comments:
Post a Comment