My Cats

My first cats were Sam and George; their Mom belonged to my aunt who lived across the street, and whose name was Suki (the cats' aunt, not mine); she lived in the basement by day and could be coaxed up to the crack in the bottom step of the porch where i would stop by now and then to talk to her.

They were Siamese. Sam was sleek and smart whereas George was pudgy and dumb. Both were good lap cats, and Sam was a great mouser. We would call them in to dinner just by calling their names out once and the rattling the can opener; they would come running within a few minutes for their split can of Friskies.

I lived across the alley from a Masonic Temple. Once a month they would have a big social. In the Summer my next door neighbor and friend would get our baby buggies and go out and sit in the front to watch the ladies and their nice evening gowns. They would ask to see our babies and Jo would proudly pull back blanket to show off her Tiny Tears doll. She'd often get a dime or more for the peek.   When they came to my stroller, I pulled back my little blanket to show them a curled up Sam!  Oh how they loved to fawn over him and I would often get more money -- sometimes much more.  I only remember doing it for two Summers.



My next cat I rescued when it was on its way to the pound. My youngest brother had a girlfriend and it was her cat. We failed to ask why they were doing it which was our mistake. I named her Tigger, and it turned out she was pregnant! She was also Crazy.  One minute she would be purring and rubbing herself on your ankles, the next she'd be at one end of our galley kitchen crouching down, then racing toward her prey:  your ankles!

After she gave birth to three kittens, she managed to keep them alive for three weeks before she killed the runt. It was terrible; I tried to bottle feed  the other two, but it was too difficult. They all had to be put down in the end.


Our first cat at this house was Mayday, so named because I got her on May first. To tell you the truth she wasn't a memorable cat because I can't think of one story to tell you about her, and I find that incredibly sad. I do remember her as being a quiet and sweet kitty, though. For some reason she didn't live long, but I don't remember how she died.    

Our next cat was Gus (Caesar Augustus), so named because ne was brought home on August first;  DH got from  a woman he delivered a pizza to. Gus was such a good kitty but he had a developmental disanility  --  as  he grew older he became more and more unsteady. I took him to Tacoma Cat Hospital and explained his symptoms and before I could stop him Dr. Smith held him above his head (about 7 1/2 ft.) and dropped him!   Gus went splat on the floor then managed to get up. Dr. Smith was properly remorseful as he picked him up saying, "Oh, the poor Gussers." His diagnosis was cerebellar hypoplasia and he got it because his mother had distemper when he was in utero. We eventually converted Galadriel's old dog house into a cat house for him with a special add-on entrance so raccoons couldn't get in. I finally had him put down when I had to have some surgery done in 1995. We buried him in the back yard.

Then came Worf, named after the character in Star Trek, The Next generation. I found him one morning when I was getting into my car to go to work;  I heard a kitten mewling plaintively, and loudly.  It was coming from across the alley, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly from where the sound was coming. I thought that perhaps it was behind a fence, but then I was standing next to a trash can and thought, "No, it can't be," before opening the lid . . . and the cute, very scared kitten  just jumped into my arms.

I brought him back inside the house, woke DH to tell him what happened, then I put him in the bathroom and closed the door. After all of this I was lucky to have  an easy commute, because I still made it to work in Seattle on time. So naturally, we decided to keep him. What was one more pet?  He eventually was killed by eating a mouse or rat who had been fed rat poison put out by our neighbors. He was one of my favorite cats.

In 2004 we found our current kitties, Purnima (a Snowshoe Himalayan), Nishita (a black cat), and Rajah (a grey tabby). In Sanskrit, purnima means fullness, like the full moon, and nishita means darkness, and Rajah means Prince. So there you have it,  and I was going to post a photo of them as kittens, but blogger froze up my computer TWICE when I tried to load it, so once again, I want to say F**k You Blogger, you piece of shit... Stop messing with me.


Good Night, TTYL, and Be Well,