Cats
Well,
I just don't know why I keep lettin' our experiences with critters upset me so
much. We sure seem to go through 'em
pretty fast. Too doggone fast. I mean cats and
dogs don't live forever and damn cows are born, grow up [with a great deal of
care and fattenin' on my part] and are sold to some other steak-lovin'
rascal because my
two women folk can't stand the thought of killin', much less eatin', Barney, Trouble, Clyde, etc
[all cattle and all named and petted by you know who]. But
cattle is another story.
Unfortunately,
cats and dogs don't normally live as long as
Buffy
Buffy was the first
cat to show up here on the Ole Ponderosa lookin' for room and board. You could tell he had just barely been weaned when he come wanderin'
up our gravel drive. He was one skinny damn kitten. Naturally he got fed
and some fresh cool well water. And straight away, he just went
right over to Sissy's dog house where Sissy was ah nappin' and eased right inside
there with 'er with out so much as a "Howdy do". Sissy woke up and looked real bug-eyed at that silly
kitten and then gave us her most pitiful "help, save me" or maybe it
was her "what did I do to deserve this?" look and we
just let her handle it. Sissy was curled up in that there dog house I
built fur her and Buffy picked the warmest spot...right smack dab in the center
of that curl. As soon as Buffy softened up 'im a nice place up against Sissy's tummy
with his front paws he curled up and took himself a nap. All the time that lil' fur ball was ah workin''em claws in Sissy's thick hair makin'
'im a bed,
Sissy looked like a hog starin' at a watch. Well, I reckon Sissy figured
out that lil' thang weren't gonna hurt her none so she laid her head right back down and went to
sleep too and paid Buffy no never-mind from then on. Buffy grew into a large sleek shorthaired cat. Buffy had
a pretty solid gray coat of hair and a regal head. When he sat up straight
and looked at something, the way
he held his head made you think of that huge Sphinx thang way over there in
Afrikee. But Ole Buffy couldn't leave snakes alone. Ever summer you
would see 'im drag a few in from the woods deader than a door nail. Got bit three times that we know
about. The last time did 'im in because he didn't make it back to the
house so we could spend more money on his worthless lil' carcass down at the
vets. I found his dead ass ah layin' over in Aunt Helen's old chicken
house a couple of weeks later.
Mama Cat and her litter
None of us in this house seem to have a lick of sense when it comes to animals. If Mama Ponder and I turned Dorey plumb loose and let 'er have 'er way, ever homeless dog and cat in Cocke County would be livin' in air house and eatin' air grub and we would be livin' in a cardboard box. Yes sir, when it comes to animals, my sweet Dorey is all heart and no brains.
Somebody put out a female kitten up at Aunt Helen's house and it had stayed there. Aunt Helen puts out food scraps behind her house and ever dog, cat, skunk, raccoon, and fox within five miles knows it. So that kitten just made its home there since there was plenty of fresh spring water right behind her house and plenty of food so long as it got to it first. So she commenced to sleep atop of the insulated cannin' house where aunt Helen used to store food she canned and which had a slanted tin-covered shed roof over it.
Well, nature took its course and she became a mama cat. Dorey decides that we will take that family in and take care of 'em until they are weaned and then take 'em to the animal shelter so they could adopt 'em out. So Dorey and I went over there and gathered 'em up and brought 'em home. We raised a healthy family of kittens. We even got mama cat spayed and all her shots to help her get adopted. By then Dorey hated to see' em go, naturally, but she finally sent 'em off with me; she will never be seen takin' an animal away from here.
I offered to pay extra money on mama cat and each of her kittens so they could keep 'em long enough to get 'em adopted, but they don't operate that shelter that way. Only one of those kittens got adopted. The rest were killed. The lady in charge of the shelter said they came down with the sniffles so they had to kill 'em before the other animals caught it too. We should have kept that litter and found 'em homes ourselves. They were beautiful healthy kittens when they left here.
Tiger [I called her Tigger]
I brought Tiger here and let me tell you right now Mama Ponder reminds me of that fact whenever she gets right put out with that crazy striped-ass gray tabby, which is pretty dadburn often come to think on it. Mama Ponder is actually as crazy about Tiger as Tiger is crazy period and that cat is plumb looney.
We had just got rid of mama cat and her litter when Aunt Helen told one of my women folk that somebody had dropped another tiny kitten off at her house. Well, Dorey went over and looked at it and said it was in terrible shape and probably hadn't been weaned yet and hadn't had any food in a few days. Well her and Mama Ponder fussed about that cat a few more times and then Dorey eased up to me and whispered in my ear. She asked me to go there and see if I couldn't find that poor lil' kitten and bring it home. So, Don do. That was the sorriest excuse for a cat I think I had ever laid my eyeballs on. It was the sickest, boniest, stinkest, cat you would every keer to see. It had the back door trots and was messy as could be. I carried it home by the nap of its neck ah holdin' that smelly thang at arm's length to get that smell as far from my nose as I could. To tell you the truth, I didn't think that kitten would live another day it was so poorly lookin'. It was already dead, it just didn't have enough sense to shut up and lay down.
Well, when I brought that pitiful scrap of stinky fur onto the back porch even Mama Ponder relented any opposition to try and help it. In a split second, that kitten went from death's doorstep to being treated like an itty-bitty King Faruk. First thang they done was give it a warm bath and dried it off. Then they wrapped it in a towel that Mama had to first warm in the dryer for it. Then they found an eye dropper and began feedin' it some condensed milk while Mama rocked it and sang to it. That's when I started feelin' sorry for poor thang. Mama can't sang a lik.
Well, to my surprise that stinky thang lived and Stinky was what I figured on callin' 'him, but I never got the chance 'cause Tye Morgan Ponder paid us a visit right after we found 'im and she named 'im for us.
Based on how crazy Tiger acted, I figure that cat had gone without nourishment for so long at a crucial time in its life the experience had caused its brain not to develop atall. He was a runt when I found 'im and he staid a runt. A lil' over five months after we took Tiger in, I started tellin' Dorey that we had to take 'im to the vets to get 'im trimmed. Dorey refused to allow it. She says that lil' cat can't be six months old Don. Well she kept puttin' me off and kept puttin' me off for about another month or so, 'till I finally got her to let me take 'im. The vet took one look at 'im and said we can do the shots, but we can't do the operation now because this cat is pregnant. Hell, Mama and Dorey thought it was a boy and I damn shore weren't gonna stick my nose to that smelly thang's butt to find out which it was.
When I got home and told my Doubtin' Thomas what the ole doc said, she says What? He's a she and she's pregnant? She can't be pregnant, she's too tiny. Nature proved her to be wrong as two left feet 'cause Tiger had her litter in our bedroom closet and Dorey acted as her mid-wife. We raised the kittens and found ever dadblame one of'em a good home and you can believe I got that cat to the vet for that operation before she could get herself that ah way ag'in.
Twelve years later that cat is still a runt...with a pot belly...and is still as crazy as ever. She definitely is not a lap cat and that just plain aggravates Mama Ponder somethin' fierce. I never saw a cat as skittish as her.
[We lost Tiger in 2002. She was having thyroid problems and died while I was drivin' Dorey to a doctor's appointment in Knoxville. Mama Ponder was with her when she died. I wish Mama hadn't been alone at the time, but we just can't fore see these thangs....at least I can't.]
Mojo
MoJo
won Mama Ponder's heart almost as soon as he appeared. He wasn't a crazy skittish cat, like our stripped-ass gray
tabby, Tiger. Much to Mama Ponder's
delight, MoJo was a lap cat.
And Mama
Boots
My
Baby Sister's neighbor, caught a kitten at her great -grandmother's former
According
to Tye and her mama, there are about 30 or 35 wild cats and kittens that live on
the premises of Tye's 'other' great-grandma's former home.
Nobody lives there now and it is overgrown. People are always droppin'
off unwanted kittens and cats there.
Tye knew she would never be allowed to keep the kitten, but she already had a home in mind for that cat. First thang she done was jump on her phone and call Mama Ponder and Dorey to come see what she had and its a surprise that you will just love. You just gotta come see it. That kid plays'em two women like a dadgum fiddle. Weren't no doubt that flea infested wormy lil' critter was goin' home with us. Hell, I knew that before we went down there. Much to Mama's delight, the thinks Boots will become a lap cat too. Its takin' longer than Mama Ponder wants, but he is becomin' lap cat a lil' more each day.
I named 'im Boots and Boots will be our last cat. I like cats, I didn't use to like them, I mean really like them, but I do now. But I have become allergic to cats. I wasn't when I came here, but I am now and have been for several years now. I finally convinced my women folk those cats were slowly smotherin' my ass to death a lil' more ever day and medicine didn't seem to help much.
We knew I was allergic to cats before MoJo showed up, but in all fairness'em women just didn't know how bad they were hurtin' me and I don't have the heart to make'em give'em away. Boots is like Mojo, he would fit in anywhere, but nobody in their right mind would want that crazy Tiger. I figured I could out live Tiger, hell she's already about 80 years old in human years, but then along came Boots. I'm not so sure about outlivin' Boots. He's only two years old now and seems to be a bigger coward than Mojo so I don't expect any dogs to do fur 'im like they did poor ole Mojo.
Don
"Brer Bear" Valentine
Remember New York!
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