by Vanderleun on October 28, 2018 … with a bit of follow-on by DT
… (due to an error in judgement, this will be the only Gerard essay I’ll be able to re-post) …

Introducing Olivia aka “Olive” who, after an exhausting search and a searing series of interviews at the local Wags and Whiskers rescue station was hired for a cup of kibble, a splash of canned tuna juice, a slosh of water, a few tiny faux-tuna treats, and a signing bonus composed of a scratching post and an empty box. Now, after only three days on the job, the whinging meows have already begun.

According to my good friend Ray, these kinds of editors have been helping writers since (at least) the publication of The Book of Kells in the 6th Century.

Blackcat – by DT

He’s a he, not a she; his name is not original: “BlackCat”. Doesn’t matter what his name is – he only responds to tuna and milk. He turns his nose up at wet food but enjoys crunchy kitty-kibbles. He once disappeared for 2 months, coming back home after we had given up on him, looking like he’d been on a 2-month cross-country bike ride to Sturgis.

The Betterhalf adopted a stray cat – or should I say, this stray cat adopted Betterhalf. Betterhalf doesn’t like cats … at the time. Did I mention I’ve been around cats most of my life? I’m a sucker for them, I know it, accept it, and enjoy their company. In all my years, there’s only been one cat I didn’t get along with – and the feeling was mutual.

But that’s not this story.

The stray was obviously a pet, not feral – domesticated and feral cats are almost two distinct species. This stray had been on her own for a while, and was hungry. And desperate as it turned out. It was early December; winter coming on. Betterhalf thought we needed a cat for a potential mice problem at our relatively new (to us) house (bad enough to be in the disclosure statement) so she started feeding this stray.

And then found herself attached.
Betterhalf: “It WILL be an outdoor cat.“
Sure …

I was working out of town at the time; Betterhalf told me about her and that she was feeding well and getting fat. I got home for Christmas … “Hey, Betterhalf, your cat is not “fat”, she’s pregnant.“

The kittens were born in March. Mamacat got her name. Now, what to do with the kittens???
Need to keep them until they’re weaned. Need to get them vaxxed and neutered …

They’re so cute.

Along about the next winter, another stray shows up. Young one – 5-6 months old, a bit younger than all 4 kittens we kept, acts feral but showed more signs of having been dumped. Could see it out on the edge of the sage every once in a while. Would sit some distance away and watch us. A bit of “Please let me in” and a whole lot of “Stay away”.

The five cats we now had more or less ignored it.

It was winter; I may not go out and seek strays, but if one comes around, I’m not going to ignore it either.

So I started setting out bowls of milk for this stray. I’d have to set it out and go away, but he’d come to the porch and lap it up. He was getting along with the others – still kittens they were – and by the time this stray would come close to us, it was obvious it was younger than ours – and ours were only 9 months old.

So they all started being kittens together. Vaxxed and neutered … and now Blackcat is part of the family. Been six years now.

Lost one of the siblings several years back. I suspect she didn’t watch her 6 while out hunting. Likely a hawk.

Another stray lost kitten showed up … and got got shortly thereafter.
(a different tale for a different time for which God will never forgive me)

Lately, we have a homeless beggar camping out in the backyard. Maybe 1yo, likely less than 2.
Named (“Noisy”) but no house privileges.

Mamacat spends most of her time indoors these days.
Time passes for us all.

But the point being, Blackcat thoroughly enjoys sitting on my keyboard and helping me write …
sssssssssssssssssssssggggggggggggggggggggggggjjjjjjjjjjjjmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm//