When i was a kid, maybe 5 years old? maybe a bit older...my Mom went to the town dump to drop off some garbage, and found a cat. She was starving - i'm assuming someone "dumped" her off with their garbage (people really disgust me sometimes). Anyway my mom brought her home and brought her to the vet - she was ok...but she was pregnant. My mom named her "Slim" tho i named her "Brat Cat" cos she meowed ALL the time-whether she was happy, whether she was sad. you just walked near her and she'd go "maAAAOWWW!" like you'd just stepped on her tail. She was affectionate tho, and always slept on my Moms lap. anyways, she had her litter-three kittens. My mom didn't let me watch the birth in case one of them was stillborn, but i was allowed to come see right after, and i immediately fell in love with a tiger and white female. i named her Susie
the other kittens were named Belvedere and Barlow. unfortunately Belvedere was killed when she crawled up into the engine of my mother's car. It was terrible...My stepfather went to get her out, and my mom said "Don't look", but i felt like i had to, somehow. she had been killed instantly. we buried her out back and for years i put flowers on her grave every valentines day.
Barlow had a long happy life. he had health problems-got cancer on his ear and had to have it amputated-but he hung in there, he was a tough little guy.
my Susie tho...she was special. She'd always sleep at the foot of my bed, by my feet. Every night, that's where she'd be. We lived deep in the country and all our animals were indoor-outdoor. Heck, this was the 70s, and for a while there weren't even leash laws-we used to just let our dog out to run around in the woods. All our cats roamed free as well. Susie would bring me presents-mice and birds that she'd caught. There was a shed near my window, and she would hop up on the shed and then meow and paw at my window if she wanted to come in after everyone went to bed (because sometimes in the summer she'd refuse to come in in the evening-having too much fun out there i guess
). sometimes her meow would be muffled tho. "mrrowwhh". i'd go to the window to let her in-and she'd have a mouse in her mouth! then i had the challenge of trying to get her to drop the mouse when i opened the window. a few times she managed to sneak in with the mouse, and she'd go drop it on my bed. My Mom said "that's the highest compliment she can give you - she's bringing you a present, trying to feed you!".
She seemed to know when i was sad. LIke i said, she was affectionate, but not a "lap cat". However, there was a good portion of my childhood that was to put it mildly, unhappy. Sometimes i'd be crying, and when she heard it, she'd come padding into my room and hop up on my bed, and push her way into my arms, and rub up against me. She only did this when i was upset, and i am convinced that she KNEW i was upset, and cared. Scientists may not believe cats capable of that, but i do. a lot of times in my childhood i felt very alone, and that obvious display of caring and affection from her meant the world to me.
Every summer (until she got old), she'd go off on what we called "Susies Adventures". She would disappear completely for a week or two. The first time it happened we were so worried, thought she'd been hurt, but she came home a week later, a bit skinnier but no worse for wear. When she repeated it the next summer, and the next, we realized that she was just going on a little vacation. I like to think of her out there, deep in the woods, catching mice to eat, drinking from streams, sleeping under bushes at night, and just fully enjoying her cat life. When she finally came home, she'd always sleep for the next two days, as if she'd been on a long journey.
I grew up, hit 15 years old, and decided that enough was enough, and i had to leave home, for my own sanity. I missed Susie - i missed her a lot. I'd visit home sometimes and she'd always seem so happy to see me, rubbing up against my legs and letting me pick her up (which she usually didn't like). I missed her, but i knew my Mom was taking good care of her, so i didnt worry about her too much.
A few more years went by, and i was 19 when i got the call. "Susie's gone", my Mom said. She had died peacefully on my old bed. I'm tearing up writing about it now, but i remember at the time, i didn't even cry. Why? because i know she lived an incredibly full, happy life. She was loved by me and my mom, had lots of outdoor adventures, and spent most of her life healthy and happy.
I know i'll see her at Rainbow Bridge, and she'll run up to me and rub against my legs like she used to, and i'll be able to thank her for being there for me, and making a little girl feel like she wasn't alone.
the other kittens were named Belvedere and Barlow. unfortunately Belvedere was killed when she crawled up into the engine of my mother's car. It was terrible...My stepfather went to get her out, and my mom said "Don't look", but i felt like i had to, somehow. she had been killed instantly. we buried her out back and for years i put flowers on her grave every valentines day.
Barlow had a long happy life. he had health problems-got cancer on his ear and had to have it amputated-but he hung in there, he was a tough little guy.
my Susie tho...she was special. She'd always sleep at the foot of my bed, by my feet. Every night, that's where she'd be. We lived deep in the country and all our animals were indoor-outdoor. Heck, this was the 70s, and for a while there weren't even leash laws-we used to just let our dog out to run around in the woods. All our cats roamed free as well. Susie would bring me presents-mice and birds that she'd caught. There was a shed near my window, and she would hop up on the shed and then meow and paw at my window if she wanted to come in after everyone went to bed (because sometimes in the summer she'd refuse to come in in the evening-having too much fun out there i guess
She seemed to know when i was sad. LIke i said, she was affectionate, but not a "lap cat". However, there was a good portion of my childhood that was to put it mildly, unhappy. Sometimes i'd be crying, and when she heard it, she'd come padding into my room and hop up on my bed, and push her way into my arms, and rub up against me. She only did this when i was upset, and i am convinced that she KNEW i was upset, and cared. Scientists may not believe cats capable of that, but i do. a lot of times in my childhood i felt very alone, and that obvious display of caring and affection from her meant the world to me.
Every summer (until she got old), she'd go off on what we called "Susies Adventures". She would disappear completely for a week or two. The first time it happened we were so worried, thought she'd been hurt, but she came home a week later, a bit skinnier but no worse for wear. When she repeated it the next summer, and the next, we realized that she was just going on a little vacation. I like to think of her out there, deep in the woods, catching mice to eat, drinking from streams, sleeping under bushes at night, and just fully enjoying her cat life. When she finally came home, she'd always sleep for the next two days, as if she'd been on a long journey.
I grew up, hit 15 years old, and decided that enough was enough, and i had to leave home, for my own sanity. I missed Susie - i missed her a lot. I'd visit home sometimes and she'd always seem so happy to see me, rubbing up against my legs and letting me pick her up (which she usually didn't like). I missed her, but i knew my Mom was taking good care of her, so i didnt worry about her too much.
A few more years went by, and i was 19 when i got the call. "Susie's gone", my Mom said. She had died peacefully on my old bed. I'm tearing up writing about it now, but i remember at the time, i didn't even cry. Why? because i know she lived an incredibly full, happy life. She was loved by me and my mom, had lots of outdoor adventures, and spent most of her life healthy and happy.
I know i'll see her at Rainbow Bridge, and she'll run up to me and rub against my legs like she used to, and i'll be able to thank her for being there for me, and making a little girl feel like she wasn't alone.
