By Kay Luckett, as told by Shadow
My human (aka Mom) is completely bonkers over cats. It may be odd, but she has drawings and photos of my previous siblings decorating the house.
She told me that her first cat was Tiggy, and he was just that—a picture purrrfect tabby boy. Mom grew up with him during her childhood in Los Angeles. Her mom, who was the original cat lover, let Tiggy scratch wherever he wanted because there were no cat-scratcher things around. The furniture was recovered each year, so no problem. Mom says she remembers that once Tiggy got stuck up in a tree and had to call a neighbor to rescue him. He was a spoiled, pampered baby who never wanted for a thing,
Tiggy was always there, until he wasn’t. On that fateful day, Mom’s mom told her that he had crossed the Rainbow Bridge. This taught Momma a real-life lesson. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened. Then, pray for another cat—never to replace, but to add more happiness and love you’re your life.
Mom always carried Tiggy in her heart, and so many different tabbies would just find her. One tabby came to her home to sit under the shade of the honeysuckle vines on the porch. You betcha he got fed and petted. He moved in and became Kiki and lived in their hearts for several years. Mom always says that happy is the home with at least one cat.
Next came Jones the tabby boy, along with Princess the Calico girl. They were California cats who ran the house, went in and out at will, and always came home for dinner. They stayed for 11 human years.
Jones was the brave one who watched over the whole family, including Mom. He was the protector of the house, and he looked out for Mom and Princess. He was impossible to keep inside at night. He’d leave by scratching open a screen or two with the excuse of being the neighborhood sentry. Princess was an elegant, proud lady-cat who meowed to let us know she was really the queen.
Tiggy and Mom later moved to Sedona to live a new life as Tiggy turned twelve and became a senior. He didn’t really mind being indoors, then. The new environment was the Wild West with hawks, coyotes, and other unknowns.
Tiggy would only poop outside while Momma watched. When it snowed or rained, he’d make his deposits indoors on the living-room rug. He was the sweetest baby boy for all his life, always the kitten of the family. Mom told me, “Some angels choose fur instead of wings.”
Tiggy and Mom moved to the Mountain Club in Prescott, Arizona where they enjoyed the beautiful forest all around the house, and the company of Butch and Maggie, who were gray tabby littermates belonging to human-friend Steve. Mom and Steve were both gaga over cats, so the house was filled with food, treats, toys, sprinkles of litter, and everyone got along amazingly well.
They lost Butch too young. Then came two boys named Teddy (the ginger tabby) and Sammy Davis—two tomcats who were littermates. They were so big that little Maggie went back to live with her first human mom. Tiggy crossed the Rainbow Bridge at age 17, Teddy went too young, and Maggie lived to be a happy 21 years.
Mom moved and sadly said goodbye to Steve and Sammy. She was alone again, being a cat-less mother. But then, suddenly, guess what? Along came Bubbles, a fat tabby girl who walked into Mom’s life as though she had always been there.
She was an easy cat. Mom would place her on her back, snuggle her tummy, then continue to pet her while the purring ensued. Bubbles was allowed out a bit at the beginning, but then she brought baby rabbits home as a gift to Mom. After their burial ceremony, Bubbles became a contented indoor senior kitty until the angels carried her away.
Alone once again, Mom was grieving until Steve suggested she go to Miss Kitty’s Cat House (MKCH) to adopt. That was new for her, because she was used to cats just coming her way. One day she went online and saw the face of the cutest and most unusual looking tabby girl named Buttons.
Mom met Ryan during her visit to MKCH, and he’d made Buttons his personal project. Ryan told Mom not to pet Buttons over the head, and she got scratched when she did. That was it.
Buttons adopted Mom and went to live in her forever home. Mom was Buttons’ home, but Ryan was the one she trusted the most. He came to visit Buttons for 10 years, gave her monthly pedicures, and held her in a way no one else could.*
* If you’d like to read Buttons’ story, go to The Prescott Dog online at https://prescottdog.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/2016-jan-feb2.pdf and open the January 2016 edition.
Humans always say that pets never live long enough. But the good news for them is that they don’t have to lose us. Life without the love and safety that our humans provide would be more about survival, and as a spoiled indoor cat, let me say that I live the goooood life. For humans, the calming, trusting, and loyal energy of a cat is a precious gift to be carefully treasured, savored, and appreciated.
Now for me. I am Shadow. I dare say that I am the love of my Mom’s life. You may have read about me before, but here I am telling about the ways I tease her, stress her, and love her all at once.
The teasing is easy. I just have to hide under the bed while playing and watch her various ways of trying to lure me out. It stresses her out when I don’t eat, and that is because at six pounds, I just don’t eat very much.
The beauty of this is that each day Mom sets before me a beautiful buffet of tuna, salmon, sardines and such while I pick and choose at my leisure. Sometimes I don’t want to eat at all and so, more stress!
The way I love Mom is by letting her groom me once or twice a day. After all, I am a gorgeous, graceful, long-haired domestic Black Cat—her very first black cat! I let her pet me, nap with me, and as a purring lap cat, I am the best cat of all, here to tell the happy tail of the many wonderful fur babies watching over us from that Rainbow Bridge.
Home is where cats live but really, they live in the heart. My heart is full when Mom tells me about all her angels. Do you think they are still here in their nine lives? Meow.
