Cats

[Arab Nights (imported)]

In 1980 I was working out of a wide spot in the road in the middle of the west Arizona desert. We were relaxing with a beer after work one day and the Game and Fish warden was there nursing a beer. He was looking for a home for the last male puppy of his dog’s litter. I went over to his place. This puppy walked up, raised a paw, we shook hands-paws and I whisked him off to my place. That night I noticed he was a she. I asked him the next time I saw him and he made a face and asked, “Who would want that one?” The answer was me.

We banged around Arizona, California, Idaho, Montana and Nevada together. Probably over half her life I was doing things where we would spend the day together out in the desert/woods and then slept together in a motel bed. It worked out fine and it was actually kind of a nice break when we were trudging across the desert and all of a sudden she would turn and want to play for just 2-3 minutes.

As it happened, she had two litters totaling 22 puppies at a time when I was working where I could have an apartment and leave her during the day. Before her first litter I had built a whelping box out of 2X4s and 1X6s. I came home one day and she had given birth to three and I could tell by her face that she was not sure what I would think. I loved on her a little and we settled down to deliver puppies. I enjoyed the trust that builds between a person and an animal to where I could help her deliver. Afterwards she had them all settled down. I looked in the pit and just smiled. One puppy was tucked under her leg and all you could see was its little puppy leg poking out and around her leg. Another was sprawled out on her tail like Burt Reynolds on a bearskin rug for a Playgirl centerfold. The only part she could move without disturbing the new borns was her front paw which she lifted up. I reached down and held it for a minute.

There were other sweet moments. Once when she was about 5 we were in a motel and I was laying on the bed reading. She jumped up, lay right next to me facing me and reached out a paw to touch my chest. I swear to God I was filled with this all accepting and all enveloping feeling of love. There is only one way I can describe it. My Dad was bad about occasionally grabbing me to help with some home project he wanted to do. He would never take the time to explain or show and I was not born knowing how to do stuff, so it seemed to always make me feel like I was messing him up and getting in the way. The feeling that came over me from my dog was the exact opposite of that.

When she was 10, I was vacationing in New York state while she was home in Nevada. One night I got this black feeling that I could not shake. The next night it was stronger and could not be cured by a six pack. The next night it was stronger and I felt it was death-related. Every night it was stronger. I flew back home and the second day she died unexpectedly. I have never had that feeling since. To this day 25 years later, out of the blue I might get a grin when some memory comes back or tear up when a wave of sadness comes over me.

I might be wrong, but I cannot imagine having a shared existence like that with a cat. Perhaps I am wrong.

[Wolf-Pup (imported)]

In 1980 I was working out of a wide spot in the road in the middle of the west Arizona desert. We were relaxing with a beer after work one day and the Game and Fish warden was there nursing a beer. He was looking for a home for the last male puppy of his dog’s litter. I went over to his place. This puppy walked up, raised a paw, we shook hands-paws and I whisked him off to my place. That night I noticed he was a she. I asked him the next time I saw him and he made a face and asked, “Who would want that one?” The answer was me.

We banged around Arizona, California, Idaho, Montana and Nevada together. Probably over half her life I was doing things where we would spend the day together out in the desert/woods and then slept together in a motel bed. It worked out fine and it was actually kind of a nice break when we were trudging across the desert and all of a sudden she would turn and want to play for just 2-3 minutes.

As it happened, she had two litters totaling 22 puppies at a time when I was working where I could have an apartment and leave her during the day. Before her first litter I had built a whelping box out of 2X4s and 1X6s. I came home one day and she had given birth to three and I could tell by her face that she was not sure what I would think. I loved on her a little and we settled down to deliver puppies. I enjoyed the trust that builds between a person and an animal to where I could help her deliver. Afterwards she had them all settled down. I looked in the pit and just smiled. One puppy was tucked under her leg and all you could see was its little puppy leg poking out and around her leg. Another was sprawled out on her tail like Burt Reynolds on a bearskin rug for a Playgirl centerfold. The only part she could move without disturbing the new borns was her front paw which she lifted up. I reached down and held it for a minute.

There were other sweet moments. Once when she was about 5 we were in a motel and I was laying on the bed reading. She jumped up, lay right next to me facing me and reached out a paw to touch my chest. I swear to God I was filled with this all accepting and all enveloping feeling of love. There is only one way I can describe it. My Dad was bad about occasionally grabbing me to help with some home project he wanted to do. He would never take the time to explain or show and I was not born knowing how to do stuff, so it seemed to always make me feel like I was messing him up and getting in the way. The feeling that came over me from my dog was the exact opposite of that.

When she was 10, I was vacationing in New York state while she was home in Nevada. One night I got this black feeling that I could not shake. The next night it was stronger and could not be cured by a six pack. The next night it was stronger and I felt it was death-related. Every night it was stronger. I flew back home and the second day she died unexpectedly. I have never had that feeling since. To this day 25 years later, out of the blue I might get a grin when some memory comes back or tear up when a wave of sadness comes over me.

I might be wrong, but I cannot imagine having a shared existence like that with a cat. Perhaps I am wrong.

I can honestly say that you can have the with a cat. Matter of fact as I was reading this, my youngest jumped up into my arms until I was done. Back in 2000 when my back blew out, my every day companion was my eldest cat Brittany. She stayed with me all day and night. The only time she gave way was when the wife and I went to bed. Then the yonger cat would cuddle up in my arms for a half an hour or so to show her love for me.

Cats and dogs are certainly different, but don't let anyone one tell you the one is more loving or loyal than the other. Just be blessed you are found by the right one.

[moi621 (imported)]

In 1980 I was working out of a wide spot in the road in the middle of the west Arizona desert. We were relaxing with a beer after work one day and the Game and Fish warden was there nursing a beer. He was looking for a home for the last male puppy of his dog’s litter. I went over to his place. This puppy walked up, raised a paw, we shook hands-paws and I whisked him off to my place. That night I noticed he was a she. I asked him the next time I saw him and he made a face and asked,

“Who would want that one?”

The answer was me.

We banged around Arizona, California, Idaho, Montana and Nevada together. Probably over half her life I was doing things where we would spend the day together out in the desert/woods and then slept together in a motel bed. It worked out fine and it was actually kind of a nice break when we were trudging across the desert and all of a sudden she would turn and want to play for just 2-3 minutes.

As it happened, she had two litters totaling 22 puppies at a time when I was working where I could have an apartment and leave her during the day. Before her first litter I had built a whelping box out of 2X4s and 1X6s. I came home one day and she had given birth to three and I could tell by her face that she was not sure what I would think. I loved on her a little and we settled down to deliver puppies. I enjoyed the trust that builds between a person and an animal to where I could help her deliver. Afterwards she had them all settled down. I looked in the pit and just smiled. One puppy was tucked under her leg and all you could see was its little puppy leg poking out and around her leg. Another was sprawled out on her tail like Burt Reynolds on a bearskin rug for a Playgirl centerfold. The only part she could move without disturbing the new borns was her front paw which she lifted up. I reached down and held it for a minute.

There were other sweet moments. Once when she was about 5 we were in a motel and I was laying on the bed reading. She jumped up, lay right next to me facing me and reached out a paw to touch my chest. I swear to God I was filled with this all accepting and all enveloping feeling of love. There is only one way I can describe it. My Dad was bad about occasionally grabbing me to help with some home project he wanted to do. He would never take the time to explain or show and I was not born knowing how to do stuff, so it seemed to always make me feel like I was messing him up and getting in the way. The feeling that came over me from my dog was the exact opposite of that.

When she was 10, I was vacationing in New York state while she was home in Nevada. One night I got this black feeling that I could not shake. The next night it was stronger and could not be cured by a six pack. The next night it was stronger and I felt it was death-related. Every night it was stronger. I flew back home and the second day she died unexpectedly. I have never had that feeling since. To this day 25 years later, out of the blue I might get a grin when some memory comes back or tear up when a wave of sadness comes over me.

I might be wrong, but I cannot imagine having a shared existence like that with a cat. Perhaps I am wrong.

Izzy and Solly, the Siamese brothers that passed 8 months apart

haunt now and then. Although lately - more often than usual.

When I feel them, I say hello, if I feel they are near me, pet each as they liked.

A previous cat I had in a condo was felt by friends who knew her.

They would startle and claim they felt Ruth jumped on their leg, as she was prone to do.

Yes, they haunt.

Moi