My Cats

Well, I decided to do a thing about my cats. I'll tell you all about the four we have now but first, a history.

The first cat I ever owned was a gray and white tomcat named Pewter. We had him from when I was very little to a while before we had a big move to another state. I would do all sorts of terrible things to him, probably just because I was two or three, but he went through it well. On my better days, he was a sweetie. Before we moved, we gave him to our neighbors across the street. A few years afterwards, those neighbors sent us a photo of him sitting in a bookshelf with a coke can by one paw and the TV remote by the other. Boy, was he fat. Even now, I still laugh at that photo. Pewter died in 2013. I will always remember the cat that would walk on the piano keys in the middle of the night.

Several years ago, my family adopted two sick kittens from a friend of our who couldn't take care of them. I was excited to have cats again. We named the queen O'Malley and the tomcat Midnight, because he was a white cat. (My dad always wanted to do that) At first, they lived in the garage, and we fed them medicine every once in a while. Soon enough, our calico queen was pregnant and had a litter of beautiful kitties a few months later. Three if them we gave to a new home, and the other two disappeared long after they had grow up and had families of their own. O'Malley had a few more litters and died in the summer of 2010. She was our first matriarch of our cat family and a real sweetheart.

Her son, a lazy, friendly tan tomcat named Drew, was the last member of the O'Malley cat clan. All the others had died soon after birth or disappeared after a year or more. After her death, Drew
would sit in the backyard and meow mournfully, so sadly that I sometimes thought he was actually crying. So, we decided that he needed a mate, so we sought the neighbors of the same friends where we originally got Midnight and O'Malley. We got a mother, Cruella, and two of her kittens, Horace and Jasper. We did not know that it was a mistake to get them.

Cruella did not seem to like Drew very much, even though he was interested in the newcomers. Eventually, Drew disappeared in search of new adventures. His little kitty heart had broken from his mother's death, and Cruella driving him off did not help in the least bit. I regret trying to get him a mate. I'm no matchmaker, that's for sure. I miss him.

However, our cat family did not stop there. Cruella had a litter, none of which survived. She went off as well after a while, reappearing for some food every once in a while. I have not seen her for at least a year and a half. Horace was the tomcat, but he vanished too.

Jasper, on the other hand, is still around today as our current matriarch. She has had a few litters, one of which consisted of two sick kittens, Ink and Jink, who ended up becoming Jinxie. Ink died at a few months, and Jinxie grew sicker and sicker over the last year of her life, but she was a real darling. She died in the summer of 2013.

Now if you think that we abuse our cats so much that they die and run away, don't jump to conclusions. We live in the woods, and there are all sorts of animals that see a farm cat as lunch. Also, they are not indoor cats. My parents wanted to get them as mousers. Don't worry!

After a few more litters, it is ultimately four who have so far survived this harsh winter. Jasper, her sons Bob (a fat dope who is really sweet and has a croaky meow), Loki (an evil little queen who hates people), and Latte (the cutest lap cat that I call my coffee bean).

In all, our cats have survived many a winter and unwanted guests. We love them, or at least I do, and we wish to keep them for a long time. There is some sort of magic in having a sleeping cat on your lap. I will post photos sometime!

-Snowprincess