Meet My Cats

We lived in the country, and I loved it when we had little puppies and kittens to enjoy petting and pampering, and we were definitely blessed with new "babies" quite frequently. I especially loved dressing them in my doll clothes and would ride them in my "doll buggy." The little animals were always gentle and good-natured about it, though.

I remember an occasion when my brother Danny and I were sitting on our front porch, one of us holding a kitten and one holding a puppy, and I felt a rush of love for the animals well up inside me. I looked over and asked Danny what he liked "best," a cat or a dog, and he said he wasn't sure, that he liked both. I liked both, too, but needless to say that over time it was the cats that won my heart the most.

There are three times that stand out in my mind where I was rather "over-bearing" with our cats. I had almost forgotten about these incidents, but if you are reading this page, that means you are a cat-lover, and I think you would want to read this... I have no idea what a psychologist's analyzation would be, but this really did happen...

I was very young, ages 2 and 3, but I remember very clearly many things from my young years. As I said, when I was "playing house," I dressed our kittens and puppies in doll clothes, and they were my "babies." I didn't have many dolls to play with but I must not have needed them, for I always had a big imagination (if you read my story about the mops in my link called, "My Remembrances," you will agree).

The three incidents concerning cats include the time when I was only 3 years old and found an open can of paint at our new house and painted a cat GREEN. I was the "baby" in the family, and I remember my brother Ken, who is 11 years older than me, trying to rescue that poor cat. Unfortunately it didn't work...the cat did not survive the ordeal of removing the paint, and I suppose it was overcome by chemical fumes. I did not realize I was harming the poor cat....I just simply wanted to see it painted green!!!!!!!

Another incident when I had not yet turned three involved the time my big brother saw one of the kittens I had been playing with walking around gagging as though it was choking. It's little head would lunge forward every few seconds, and Ken said, "WHAT is wrong with that CAT?" He picked it up and found a rubber band I had around the kitten's neck...to me that rubber band had represented a "necklace" in its attire of doll clothes I had put on the kitten earlier that afternoon. THAT kitten survived the incident, and I don't remember getting a spanking, but I learned to be more careful.

The third cat incident is the weirdest of all. It took place along about the same time as the "necklace" incident...but it was an older cat this time. I remember sitting on my Momma and Daddy's old store steps holding and petting that cat when something inside of me said, "BITE IT'S SKINNY TAIL." Unfortunately, I LISTENED and I BIT THE TAIL. Can you imagine my shock when a "nub" of the end of that cat's tail fell off into my hand????? I knew I had probably done something bad, even if I wasn't even three years old yet. But you know what? I don't remember it bleeding...!

Yes, despite my morbid cat stories and what you may think, I DID love the cats. I must have got over my streak of cat-curiosity after that, by the way.

All my life I particularly liked the fluffy, long-haired cats most of all. I didn't care if they were calico or solid colored, as long as they were long-haired, I was happy.

I adored Persians most of all, but it wasn't until 1993 that I got my first "full-blood" (registered) Persian, after seeing an ad in the paper and simply could not resist the temptation to "go see." I remember driving up to the breeder's home and saw the CUTEST KITTY CAT "waiting" for my arrival!

You know how they say a grandparent loves each grandchild the same, but how somehow there is something extra special about the bond they have with that FIRST grandchild. Well, that's how I feel about my first Persian! I want you to meet my special kitty, "Baby." Actually, her papers identify her as "Miss Priscilla Baby," but somehow "Miss Priss" did not stick, but "Baby" did. And one spoiled baby she is, indeed!!

I love her more than you can imagine, and the love is mutual, I can tell. If I am stirring around in the house, I guarantee that Baby is somewhere nearby!! If I go to another room to check on something, she is there with me. Actually she seems to know every "move" and even makes me wonder if she can read my mind!?!? She seems to know more about my personal habits than even I do!! If the phone rings, she immediately runs to me.... I guess she's telling me to answer it, but I even wonder if she's saying, "Hey, I KNOW you have a phone call, but don't forget to give ME attention, too!!!"

In the late 90's there was a commercial that used "Yes Sir, That's My Baby" as their theme. One day as I had the TV on, Babycat heard that song on the commercial and came over to me and did her usual"swish" that she would do as though I were singing it to her. My son, the common-sense, precise civil engineer that he is, said, "Yeah, SURE, Mom," when I told him about it. I was soooooo happy that his wife, Linda, spoke up real quickly and said, "She's right, Ryan, I saw it myself!"