cat stories

Mish Mish sat by the door, patiently staring back into the kitchen at me.

“Meow,” she finally insisted.

“You want to go into the backyard?” I asked. “But it’s still raining.”

Our fluffy orange tabby sat up, dog-like, on her little haunches, her raised front paws seemed to beg. Where she had learned this endearing gesture I will never know. Though she came to us eight years ago, she has never chosen to reveal her past life to us.

I had been working in the garden the day I first saw her peering at me from within a dense clump of daylilies. When my eyes met hers she mewed, crept out, and mewed again. She was tiny and emaciated.

There was a kindness in his eyes that drew me in from the moment I first saw him. We had an instant connection; but he was not meant to be mine. A friend knew I had helped other animals get homes in the past and she asked me to help her find one for this beautiful cat.

The cat was jet black; he had soft, sleek, fur and was very affectionate. He would wind himself around your legs constantly, purring and would jump into your lap when you sat down. I found myself attached to him quickly; but knew the task ahead, was to find him a home.

It was easy to find this cat a home. It made me happy to see his new owner thrilled to come and get him.

John, Peppy and I had recently moved to a small town in Alberta from B.C. One evening while on an exploration of the area by car I saw something out my window.

I yelled, "John! There is a kitten on the side of the road! Turn around!"

John turned us around but we didn't see the kitten at first.

John then saw her on THE OTHER SIDE. Much to our surprise and delight, the wee thing had crossed the 110 kilometer, very busy highway and SURVIVED.

I hopped out of the car armed with my warm, white sweater.

Frightened, hissing and tearing up the side of the ditch covered in tall grasses, I watched this tiny bundle of fur.

I was in Louisiana. I had just lost my beloved cat of 19 years and was in mourning. I had a large, large yard... about the size of a football field with a 4-foot chain link fence. For 5 months I was feeding 3 feral cats, one mother cat and her two babies. I had been trying unsuccessfully to capture them to take them to vets and a no-kill facility to be adopted.

One lovely summer afternoon, I was sitting in a chair in my yard reading when one of the little ones, a tiny little thing, began to climb the fence! I was stunned. I watched as she struggled to get over the huge fence, falling down several times until she reached the top and fell over on my side of the fence.

My wife and I are the proud human parents of two outstanding specimens of felinus domesticus.

Now those of you who recall your high school biology should know that to really pinpoint the subspecies, one must add a third word or "trinomial." Unfortunately, we simply haven't a clue about our cats' origins. We do, however, have evidence that one of our cats is the sole surviving member of a hitherto unknown breed. In such instances, you may know, the individuals who make the discovery have the honor of creating the trinomial.

I met Pumpkin in 1996. Some people would say he was a "stray" cat, but I've come to understand that he is actually a "wandering minister" who chooses certain people or families who need a special gift of love. Folks who live on my street, Chickamauga Lane, know Mr. Pumpkin the cat because he is a very friendly fellow. He stops by regularly to visit anyone who welcomes him, sometimes even when they don't!

One summer, Pumpkin sauntered inside my neighbor's house for a "visit" and no one saw him enter. They were packing up and leaving for a 10 day vacation!