AntMan, I remember when my first feline pal, Rekki--an undersized Siamese with the heart and soul of a gentleman--died, I grieved as I did for beloved relatives.
When my darling Useless died of old age (he had been a stray who had probably been abused at some point and was at least 18) and of colon cancer, which had just taken my mother two months earlier, I was heartbroken. He had been with me through my marriage and its demise, through so much of my life, and had been a real friend. I held him while he died and I still have his ashes.
Shadow, another stray who was intensely shy and probably had been abused at some point, had FLV and I knew it was only a matter of time. Yet I still mourn him, have his ashes as well, and put up with the cat he adopted and brought home one day after he slipped out the window before I could slam the screen into place.
His cat, Circe, is a very pretty tortoiseshell, a bitch on wheels, one of the most destructive and mischievous little maniacs I have ever known, and cares only for men. She has absolutely no interest whatsoever in me except as a source of the necessities and behaves in a friendly fashion only toward my friends who are men; the women she ignores totally. Yet I'd protect the little horror with my life, you know?
Hey, you are a man! Want a cat? (As though you don't already seem to have your hands full with the ones you care for already!) |
