From Whence He Came

           When feeding strays for a while, you begin to know whose kitten is whose.  But one day, I realized it wouldn’t hold true all the time.  A strange kitten showed up.  Now, whose kitten is that?  It was a young male tabby dark gray in color. He was not yet full grown.  In the weeks to follow, I could see he was growing.  But yet, he was still slender.  He stayed a distance, but finally allowed me to rub him.  There came a little more rubbing each day.  I couldn’t rub him on the stomach though as he pushed me away with his paws and began biting when I tried.  A cat truly trusts when one allows rubbing their most vulnerable area (stomach).  As he got fully grown, he stayed away more as male cats do.  But he came back for feeding.  He constantly looked over his shoulder for other male cats to show up.  There were several males showing up for feeding.  There was Bushel, Cotton tail, Fireball, Rags, Scared, Curly and others.  He continued eating in their presence.  But they all took off running when Fuzzy Wuzzy came.  There would be a fight if they stayed around.  Fuzzy Wuzzy was the dominant one and obviously they all were invading his territory.

In the days, and even weeks to follow, here would come running my male cat friend.  Since I did not know who his mother was, and definitely not his father, I gave him the name Illa.  It was short for illegitimate.  I really got to love him.  Our back yard is not level.  It’s a drop off.  From the bottom of the hill, Illa would come running.  He had a straight run to the picnic table where I was opening cans and putting out dry food for the strays.  He came to me and started eating.  Before I could get all the food out and water changed, Illa was almost ready to go.   The whole time he ate, he watched for other male cats.  I stood over him as a protective shield.  I finally got to rub him on his stomach.  I knew then that this stray was mine.

I fed the strays twice a day.  It was in the morning and in the evening.  They all learned the feeding times.  I watched for my Illa.  I was becoming so attached to him.  I took pride in that this cat had come to love me too.  This could have gone on forever, but it wasn’t in the cards.

On December 18, 2011, we were going to Knoxville to visit my daughter and her family.  My son and I put out plenty of cat food that morning for the strays.  We didn’t plan to stay any longer than the day.  But I wanted to make sure the strays were okay if we did stay overnight.   I had seen Illa the day before.  He was on my mind.  I actually was going to miss seeing him that day.  That night we came home.  The next morning when feeding the strays, there was no Illa.  December 17, 2011, was the last time I saw my friend.

When reading up on feeding strays, it says to expect a lot of deaths.  The survival rate out there is around 5 years for a stray.  Of course, Illa was no more than two years.  With so many male cats around, he may have just moved on.  But I keep going out for feedings and expecting that male cat to come running to me.  I didn't really own Illa and he didn't really own me.  But I never expected him to take with him a little bit of my heart.  I really did get attached to him.  I can only hope Illa is still out there and I will see him again.  If not, he is locked in my memory forever.

The Creek Brothers

 

 After our favorite cat Tiger had died, we didn’t want another cat.  But a telephone call from East Tennessee changed all that.

            “Mom, would you like another cat?” asked my daughter.

            I quickly replied, “No!”  I didn’t even have to think about it.

            “But wait, mom,” she insisted.  “May I tell you about the cat?”

            “Okay, go ahead.”

            “Steve and Andrew went fishing at Buffalo Creek.  Andrew saw a kitten in the water.  He yelled to his Dad and from the water they pulled a long haired yellow tabby.  They brought him home.”  She continued, “We can’t keep him.  We have too many cats already.  I was wondering since we are coming this weekend anyway, “Would you like us to bring you this cat?”

            “No, I don’t think so!”

            “But, Mom, Andrew wants you to have him.  He even named him for you.  He named him from the creek they pulled him from.  Andrew named him Buffalo Creek.  Can you refuse your 4 year old grandson?”  She snickered.  “He really wants you to have him.”

            I thought to myself, “What loving grandmother could refuse her little grandson?”

            That is how we got Buffalo Creek.  But the story hardly had its ending there.

            My son was at work when a co-worker asked, “Would anyone here like a cat?”  It seemed according to her story that a short haired grey tabby had wondered into her yard.  She tried to get her indoor cats to accept him.  They would not and so she was trying to find him a home.  Without much effort, she talked my son into taking him.

            The first night the two cats were together was awful.  I had one neutered cat verses the one that was not.  There was constant fighting.  They kept us up all night.  I couldn’t call a vet fast enough the next morning to get our latest cat neutered.  But after doing so, there came harmony.  They did their usual smelling as cats do, but acceptance came.

            We had taken our time naming our new member.  We had come up with some name for neutering him at the vet’s.  But it did not fit.  We had cats about to spend a lot of time together.  The companionship was now obvious.  But we still had no name.

            As we rode in the car in an area not far from our home, the perfect name came.  At a four way stop section, the sign above the road read Pebble Creek.  And so; that’s how the grey short haired tabby got his name.  And though miles had separated the two cats, they had found each other and became brothers.

Learning By Example

            We had been across town shopping.  The traffic was heavy on the interstate.  I decided to take back roads home.  It would be longer, but yet faster in this case.  The children, one in the front seat and two in the back, were quiet.  But then something seemed to catch each one’s eyes at the same time.  It was a sign near the street that read, “Free Kittens.”

            “May we get a kitten, mom?”

            It didn’t take much coaxing as I turned around at the next street and headed back.  Upon stopping, we found someone home.  They were more than willing to show us the kittens.  We left that day with an orange and white female calico kitten.  A name came easy for this little soft creature.  From a soap opera character on television, we named her Tina.

            Tina instantly fit in the family.  Although she only slept and ate, she was adored by the children.  They gave her love and she gave it back.  She was a perfect little companion for all.  The children all took turns feeding and changing the litter box.  I felt it would be my job, but surprisingly they took care of her without being told.  And this may well have been the reason I had not picked upon clues about Tina’s behavior.

            The children were at school and my husband was at work.  I was cleaning the house.  I stopped in my tracks as I heard what I thought was someone using the bathroom.  It was fear that overcame me.  I was home alone.  My first thought was to leave the house.  But then curiosity played a part in my decision as I slowly peeped around the door to look inside the bathroom.  I started to laugh at what I saw.  There before my eyes I witnessed Tina with legs spread and using the commode.  I had no idea cats could use the human bathroom.  But there it was before my very eyes.  I couldn’t wait to tell the children when they got home from school.

            It was my seven year old, Teresa, who admits to this very day that she was the one who taught Tina to use the bathroom.

            “I would wake up in the middle of the night having to go to the bathroom.  I was scared and so I took Tina with me.  She watched and I guess learned to use the bathroom.”  She laughed.  “I guess you could say that I am the one who taught her.”

            “What about the litter box?”  I asked.

            “We didn’t have much cleaning there.”  They all replied.

            We haven’t been lucky enough to have another cat duplicate Tina’s bathroom using.  But I still laugh about the day I caught Tina using the bathroom for the first time.  It amazes me about what animals, especially cats, may pick up from their owners.  It’s with their two little eyes cats may very well be watching and learning by example.

In Memory of No Name

            For the past three years, I have fed stray cats.  It is hard not to become attached to a cat you feed that long.  Although they come to eat, they still come and go as they please.  I have heard that if you feed a cat, then it becomes yours.  I find this not so as I can’t place a hand on most of them.  Many keep their distance as they are scared of a human.

            I have seen other neighbors sometimes put out food.  But they don’t place out daily.  The cat stops going there.  And so; did that make the cat theirs only while they put out food?  I know that if I stopped with the food, they would move on.  They are not mine.  A cat is an independent animal.  But I have picked out a name for each that comes.  When talking about them, it makes my stories easier to tell.  There’s always that one that grabs at your heart.  For me, it was “No Name.”  In naming some of the cats, I couldn’t come up with a suitable name.  And so what popped out of my mouth was, “No Name.”  For years she became a fixture at my door going out to the patio.  I would look out the glass in the door and see her sitting there.  I could see her mouth move.  And whether I actually knew what she was saying or not, I imagined she was saying with her meow,

            “I’m hungry!  Come out here and feed me!"  And so I would get up and go feed her.  Usually most of the other cats had been fed and moved on.  But “No Name” knew she could get more; and it was those special treats she looked forward to.

            We had an old chair on our patio and “No Name” brought four kittens to live in that chair.  It was a safe place and it brought her kittens close to the food.  It was now she would work on weaning her kittens to solid food and water.  “No Name” had done a fantastic job.  She was a good mother.  We were finally beginning to be able to rub her.  It was no doubt in our minds that “No Name” was coming around to our touch.  She was beginning to trust me and my son.

            I don’t live in a busy subdivision.  But still, many people drive faster than they should.  It was early one morning that we found “No Name’s" lifeless body lying in the street.  She had been hit by a car.  She was removed and buried immediately.  From a shed we had with the door partly open, I heard the cries of her kittens.  They were little strays and beyond our picking them up.  Would they make it without mother?

            I don’t know the communication of other cats.  But I do know that the other strays have accepted the four kittens.  They allow them to eat among them.  Sometimes they sit back allowing the four to eat first.  I can’t touch the four as they won’t allow it.  But they do walk among my feet as I put out the food.

            “No Name” is gone.  It has been a few weeks now and the kittens continue to stay.  After all, “No Name” gave them the only home they know.  And as long as I can continue to afford to feed them, I will.  I owe this to “No Name.”  I do miss her coming to my door.

The Cat Who Thought Himself a Dog

    
                    Ernie was one of four kittens born to a calico mother. He was a domestic short haired yellow tabby male. His three sisters were all calico just like their mother. The mother for some reason chose to abandon her four young at four weeks old. She left them in a building and there they were discovered by the property owner. They were crying for food when discovered.  They were fed milk from a dish and eventually given solid food. But they were not without getting dirty. The only mother they knew was not left to bathe them. The owner would soon take care of all their needs. He moved them into the house with him and his wife. They learned to love the kittens as much as the kittens learned to love them.

          Ernie watched the two people. He was making his choice of owner. Whereas; all the girls chose the woman as their owner, Ernie chose the man as his owner. All four kittens would take on their own personalities. 
          From the start, Ernie felt different. Maybe it was because he was the only male. Or maybe; it was because he was the only short haired domestic. There had to be more to it than that. From a window, Ernie watched a creature outside. It was a dog. He made a barking sound to which Ernie tried to imitate the barking sound.
          But all he could get was a meow when he tried to bark.

          Behind him, he heard his sisters laugh.
          “You can't bark!” They meowed together. You're a cat! You need to act like one.”
          But Ernie kept watching the dog outside. He heard some kid yell, “Come here Fido.” The dog came running to him. And the kid threw a round object. “Fetch the ball!” He yelled again. When the dog brought the ball back to him, he heard the kid say, “That's a good boy, Fido.” He reached out his hand and patted Fido on the head. The praise was something Ernie wanted from his master.
          “I can do that,” said Ernie. And sure enough, the next day Ernie brought his owner a ball. In surprise, he picked up the ball. As if by habit, he threw it. He was surprised when Ernie took off running for it and brought it back to him. From then on, they played fetch together. And Ernie got the love pats and the rubbing on the head.
          “Good boy, Ernie! Good boy.”
          Ernie loved his master. He would wait for him to come home from work. He would cuddle up beside him as he sat. If clothes of his master left out, he waddled and played in them. He even at times chewed on them. Ernie thought of himself as a dog. He had replaced all myth that a dog was man's best friend. Ernie, the short haired yellow tabby, had become his master's best friend.

Rusty Opossum

       It had been a cold last few days.  The snow accumulating upon the ground several days before had not been given a chance to melt.  With nights and days both hitting record temperatures below zero, Rusty Opossum stayed curled up in a ball to keep warm.  Generally always Rusty spent his nights on the prowl for food.  But in his safe shelter under someone's porch, Rusty decided just to sleep in.  It was now the third day and hunger was hitting hard.

      “I am so hungry,” he said.  “I am so weak.  I need food”               

       His lack of strength would hardly give him long to search.  How had he allowed himself to get so hungry?           

       Finding food would be hard especially in the daylight.  He always hid himself well in the safety of darkness. He had to go out now in the day time as he had no choice.                                                             

      “Where will I go first?”  And then; he paused and smiled, “The cat dish put out by a property owner to feed strays.”                

       He had stumbled upon it at night.  It was seldom that much was left of it with cats eating from it all day long.  But there was a chance there would be plenty now with daylight.                 

       “I'll try there first,” he said.  

        Things seemed so much different in the daylight.  He had to be more cautious as he did not know what dangers may lay ahead.  But from memory, he found himself standing over a dish full of cat dry food.  The owner had put out plenty.  He immediately began eating.  He was so involved into filling his empty stomach that he did not hear someone come up behind him.                  

        “Hey there, Mr. Opossum.  You sure are hungry,” said a voice from behind him.                        

        “The name is Rusty.  And yes, I am hungry.”   He said as he turned around to see a cat sitting just behind him.       

        “Is it your food I'm eating?”       

        “No,” replied the cat. This food has been put out to feed strays.”  He continued, “I guess it includes all stray animals of any kind.  You are more than welcome to a share.  I'll wait until you finish as you appear to be pretty hungry. He paused a minute and then said, “By the way, my name is Rags.”            

          As Rusty finished eating, he slowly began to crawl away.  But before doing so, he turned and nodded to Rags and then spoke, “Thank you so much for your kindness, Rags”                                

         “No problem,” answered Rags.  “It feels good to share with others.  If you need for food again, remember, there's always something here for you.”    

          “I'll remember that,” smiled Rusty as he continued to crawl away. 

          Not only did Rusty leave that day with a full stomach.   He left also with a warm feeling inside his heart placed there by the respect and kindness of another.