It's a Hard Life

      He was a regular cat who came to eat.  He was a bully with others stepping aside giving him dominance.  The big long haired light grey male cat got the name Fuzzy Wuzzy.  I gave it to him.  I always said it was because beneath his tough exterior there was a fuzzy little bear trying to get out.  I always wanted to rub him and show him love.  I never ever dreamed I would someday be able to rub him.                                                                                  
     Elephants go to a place where elephants go to die.  Do other animals do it too?  I think maybe so.  I think I have seen it.                            
     For a cat to live to get old as a stray is a mystery in itself.  It is such a hard life for a stray cat.  There was the cat Rags.  I felt he came here to die.  But after a few days he disappeared.  There was the cat Buddy.  He lay in a rocking chair on the front porch in his later days.  He soon disappeared.  I saw others come that I figured would surely die.  If they died here, I would bury them.  But they disappeared.  I assumed they crawled off to die.  But Fuzzy Wuzzy was different.  He came and stayed.  On that day, July 15, 2013, I found him dead.  In the path that cats made crawling underneath the fence to enter the patio area, there lay a motionless Fuzzy Wuzzy.                         
     In those days leading up to his death, he kept eating.  His body was so skinny.  He cried loud when I brought the food out.  I reached out my hands and to my surprise, he allowed me to rub him.  I wondered if human hands had ever touched him before.  He stayed in the area out back during the day.  He seldom left the patio area.  He did though on the day of his death.  He crawled only a few inches outside the area.  But there he was dead at a place he called home.  He was laid to rest under the pear tree close to the very spot where he took his last breath.  The place we call our pet cemetery.                                                                                                                             
     Every living creature on earth will die eventually.  Modern man  has tried to change this.  But as we well know, there has been no success at it.  It is said man has a purpose on earth.  Can this not be said of the cat or other animals?  It is true the cat brain can not compare to the human.  But the cat has to be a thinker.  He knows when to eat, sleep, etc. He too has to have purpose or what reason would God have had to create him?  I figure Fuzzy Wuzzy had a purpose.  I didn't get to know of him until there at the end.  But like all strays out there that come on my patio for food, I gain a bit of love and respect.  To many people they may be just animals.  To me, I don't find it so.  They are little creatures of God with love to give.  I am almost certain Fuzzy Wuzzy left his mark in this world.  As the male dominant cat of the colony, he is almost certain to have left little Fuzzy Wuzzy's behind.                                                                    

Cats! Cats! Cats!  More cat stories and such to come.