... the tabbies, calicos, and torties of the world unite!
I've often imagined a world beneath our world where hundreds, maybe thousands of migrant and homeless...as well as lost,misplaced, or runaway felines... face the daily chore of survival. I've watched as cats slip stealthily into drains and culverts... emerging only to enjoy a little sunshine or seek subsidence by hunting or begging at backdoors.
We feed several strays ourselves and some are quite regular in their attendance. The Reverent Mister Black has reservations daily at 6 am and again in the evening and has had for many years. At one point he brought a female companion with him who later bore him 2 offspring (definitely not a Catholic Reverend). For some unknown reason this female and her son later disappeared (or moved on to greener pastures) but father and daughter remained, the daughter later blessing us with 5 beautiful kittens who at the tender age of 3 weeks were deposited on our back patio - with not even a "never you mind..." and more like a "Here, you take them!"
And we did.
We've not regretted it. But when little Miss Reverend showed up again with another belly-full of new prospective adoptees, we took matters into our own hands and nipped that in the bud... so to speak.
The Reverend was probably not too pleased with us. But seeing's we're raising and educating his children (and taking care of their medical needs: vaccinations, wormings, neuters, declaws, etc. are not cheap!) as well as keeping his own belly full, he hasn't had too much to say.
The oldest male was adopted by my 3 year old grand-daughter who would have taken all 5 if her Mama had let her.
But she did leave with Cocoa (alias: Pretty Boy Floyd) - the oldest, biggest, and most experienced in "sucking up". The morning they were leaving for home and she was telling them goodbye, the little devil scampered up the baby gate just as easy as you please and scrambled onto her shoulder where he shamelessly cuddled and purred. Needless to say, he went home with her that very morning.
The next 2 girls were adopted by my oldest son and grandson. GS fell in love with the runt, a tiny black and white kitten that I called "Monkey-mouse" and who he ever so kindly renamed, "Julie". My grown son fell for the mama cat's lookalike - a pretty gray tabby with the sweetest white face and paws. Hence, I called her "Sweet Thing" - now renamed, "Jasmine".
The 2 remaining kittens, Jack and Tux, have now become permanent fixtures in our house - along with the 4 geriatric cats who have resided here for from 3 to 15 years (3 are 10 years old and 1 is 15... plus or minus a year or two.) Needless to say, Tux and Jack have instilled new life into the house, as well as the necessity for some new furnishings as they have a tendency to tear about at breakneck speed and have no qualms at all about using their tiny needle-like claws on leather, upholstory, or whatever.
Jack is the good-looking one - with the devil may care attitude. Sometimes it seems like he doesn't have a brain in his head - but he's so cute, nobody notices. His markings are stunning!
Tux, on the other hand, is an average looking Tuxedo marked black and white domestic short hair. He's much more subdued and definitely less rowdy... although as my husband says, he does go over to the dark side on occasion. He is a good cat - sweet and lovable and has also wormed his way into our hearts.
I always thought that one day I'd write a book and use the title, "Too Many Cats in the Bed"... and this was when 3 cats were too many. Now with a feline household of 6, the new title has been shortened to just, "Too Many Cats..."
End of Introduction but to be continued...
