Early this morning, my husband needed to load the lawn mower because he had a small accident with it last night and broke an important piece completely off the mower. This is not one of those plastic mowers, either. Anyway, I thought I would lend him moral support, so walked out onto the front porch. I saw something black in the highway - something that looked so much like one of my cats that I teared up even before we took a closer look. Since Mr. W. was leaving with the mower, he said he would go down to the road and take a look.
He drove past the cat to take the mower and again when he returned with our gate that had been welded back together. He told me it appeared to be our oldest fluffy black cat. I had seen the cat when I let the chickens out of their hut, but it only takes a second. He knew I wouldn't want to bury the cat, so he said he would do it. And guess what? It was a skunk pretending to be a cat. I suppose he/she had been hit a few times so that no white was visible. To celebrate the extended life of our Angel, I'll share a few cat pictures.
The cat in the first picture is Tux. She is a three year old neutered female. I claim her and she claims me, though the children think she is theirs. I cannot sit on the porch swing without Tux climbing on top of me. I've tried to sneak out of the house for a few minutes alone, but to no avail. This one is truly cat-like in her ability to hear, see, and sense. She is a hunter. In fact, we have had to take special precautions during bluebird nesting season. She is scarily efficient.
The next picture shows two of Out of Focus' babies, Rocko and Rubber Dinghy. Can you guess who names these cats?
Out of Focus is the surrogate mother of Sport, the spare chick. She earned her name because even to this day we have never taken a picture in which you could tell a single thing about her. She, also, is a little out of focus in other ways. We think she may be a few bricks shy, if you know what I mean. Out of Focus came to us as a small orphaned kitten. We misjudged her age because she was so so small. She will be neutered as soon as she finishes nursing - hopefully next week. Her kittens are doing great.
Next is Rocky. He is one of the
feral kittens we stole from under the log pile. He had a tough go of life as a baby. He just wasn't as robust as his brothers and sister - pitiful really. He fought back and earned the name of Rocky. He is full of mischief, now. He once rode under the car all the way to Philadelphia. When we got there, he jumped out like it wasn't a miracle that he survived.
McSqueezy is next. He is one of the feral babies found in the woodpile. He has no relation at all to Tux, but looks so similar. His personality is much more vivacious. Actually, he doesn't act as dignified as a cat should. Have some pride would you, McSqueezy.
Finally, you see Tar Baby who may get his name changed to Bagheera because as he ages his coat is beginning to shine. He will definitely be a short haired cat.
Our two black adult females, Angel and Out of Focus have long hair. Angel is so big and puffy that finding the cat underneath is difficult. When her belly was shaved for spaying, the hair came back gray so she has a gray streak on her belly - strange really. I don't have her picture because she is hiding in the shade. With that much hair and these hot temperatures, I'm sure she won't move a muscle until night.
Yesterday, while we were in Jackson, Tuxie, my most favorite cat, was hit by a car and died. I thought I was old enough to not get emotional over the loss of a pet, especially an inside/outside cat who really couldn't tolerate ownership, but I'm not.
In fact, she could switch from cool cat to predator instantly. The pictures at right were taken seconds apart, though since I lost control of the camera a couple of years ago, I have no idea what she saw or heard that caused the switch.
