Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Cats have always been a part of my life. It isn't that I don't like dogs; I do. But there is something about a cat...

The cat above is JimBob and he chose my cousin in North Carolina to live with. Someone must have dumped him, because he was pretty scroungy looking when he found my cousin's house. But you can see that he is a cat with a special talent. My cousin was pulling in her driveway when JimBob broke into song, and she didn't have much of a chance to get a good focus on the old boy. But we both decided it was good enough to show off his talents to you all.

Tigger's ashes presently reside in a little box in our curio cabinet. We've never had a cat cremated before, but Tigger was a cat of a very special ilk, and we have chosen to keep him close to us. But look at what a wonderful picture we got of him. He was in the process of taking his bath on our couch. The camera caught him with a very funny face that we did not see until we looked at what the camera saw.

Squeaky has lived three lives. One was prior to a friend Joan's rescue of her as a very abused little kitty. For her second life, Joan named her Trixie, as a companion to her other cat Tuxie. When Joan had to move, she needed to find a home for Trixie, and we became her third (and hopefully last) family. Because she doesn't meow but merely squeaks, we changed her name and provided her with a home complete with good pampering and birdwatching.

The cat above is Chauncey. He was a cat that appeared many years ago in our neighborhood one day and took up residence in our back yard. We invited him inside and kept him there for five days, trusting that this length time would imprint our house as HIS house and he would stick around. At the end of day five we let him outside. He moved to the roof for the next five days and then he was off on his next venture. Luckily we have this marvelous photo to remember him by. He was a beat up old Tom cat, not all that attractive, but by giving him a name like Chauncey, we hoped to give him a feeling of self-worth. (He obviously peferred "Tom")

Old Spot came to us when she was eight weeks old, on August 1, 1975. She was a wedding present from our friends, Ed and Bev Duffy. Spotty was the world's best cat, and we had a great 16 years with her. This picture was taken when she was quite old. At the end of her lifetime she looked like a bag of calico fur with a few bones inside it. We mention her name often; she gave us a great deal of pleasure.

This morning I was looking for video showing a cat sneezing. I happened upon this one, and although I hope the cat didn't use up one of its lives, I laughed so hard I cried. So here, for closure to a cat column, is a pretty darn funny video of a cat:

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