We had so many cats when we were growing that I have forgotten a lot of their names. Sheba and Tither had a lot of the kittens we kept. I remember Rastus, Banjo, Gray Baby, Whitey Pants, and Tiger Lily (I think). I believe there were some with Fourth of July names too, but I can't remember the actual names. Then there was Snoopie, the most beautiful gray kitty ever. It seems though that the best ones disappeared or died.
Gray Baby was the one who loved water. The bathroom door wouldn't latch completely for a while. I remember her jumping into the tub once when I was in the bath. So, we started entertaining her with a dishpan full of water so that she would leave the bathers alone. Whitey pants liked watching T.V. Rastus I think is the one who liked jumping from the roof to daddy's shoulder. We had some really special kitties.
Several years ago, I had another special kitty. Sir Thomas Kit Carson Jr. loved me. He used to climb up and snuggle into my face and neck. That ended when Miss Kitty Katt (aka: Psycho Cat---also aka: Bad Kitty) joined the household. From then on he detested me. Sir T. or Mr. T as I ended up calling him would hiss and spit and yowl at me if I entered a room he was in. He would yowl and hiss at me if I spoke or sang too. Never again did he snuggle with me. We had word fights. His were more of the FFFsssstt!! Hissssss! Ptooey! Rowr! kind. If you know cat talk, you know those are "Bad Swears." Mine were crabby words. "Stupid cat, shut up, quit hissing at me. Shut up, it's not my fault it's snowing etc."
Along with his bad attitude (which is funny to think back on), he started to spray his territory. Not only did he spray, he sprayed the same places over and over again. Anything close to his tush was fair game---furniture, doors, walls, the oven, the refrigerator, Christmas presents, books on the book shelves. Nothing was safe. He ended up moving to a farm where he lived in a heated barn, could spray to his little heart's content, and got fresh goats milk on a daily basis. His new family loved him according to the Vet's Assistant . They are her neighbors. Personally, by the time he moved away, I had already grieved for the cat who had loved me, and he and I barely tolerated one another.
Now Miss Psycho Kitty is my baby. She loves me a lot. She even snuggles with me the way Mr. T once did. I find her to be a very sweet kitty, and she hardly ever goes psycho on me. It's other people who get it. Someone can pet her very nicely, she may even purr, but then she might get tired of the petting session. Instead of moving away, she smacks and tries to bite. Isn't that nice? She's such a good little cat with her Mountain Lion looks, and her lovely overbite. Does she scare you? She shouldn't. She is a real sweetheart. Cats are the bomb. TTFN
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3 comments:
I agree with you that cats are the bomb. God sure knew what he was doing when he created animals. How could you forget the kitties Dumbo, Boycot, Koko, Nankypoo, Ying and Yang.
I have a letter that I wrote to Rick when he was in the army and I told him that Tither was going to have little Tithers. I cannot remember a time when we did not have cats in our home. I loved the picture of "little miss overbite". She is not as sweet as my babies, but I do enjoy her when I am at the house.
Is Miss Kitty looking for a good place to crap on Kris' stinky head? And yes indeedy doodle bugs....I am afraid of your cat. Be afraid people...be very afraid! Hey Rinny, I remember tossing Ying and Yang across the bedroom when they wouldn't leave me alone so I could go to sleep.
Cats are the greatest of all 4-legged creatures! I only had one big tom that was a permanent resident when we lived in the country, but others came and went. One mean old critter went in a hurry when my dad tossed her out the front door for ripping my arm as I walked past her. She hated all people. Our tom had to move into town with us a couple of times when my grandparents went to California to visit my uncle and aunt. This was only during winter months. Tom was used to fields and pastures to roam, but in town he had to be a house-only cat. He hated it so would hide at the bottom of the stairs and attack our legs as we came down. He wasn't playing either! Two times he got me--a small child--and chewed holes in my neck!
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