Buster became mine one hot, Summer workday morning. I'd left home early and even drove an unusual route. On my way, I thought I saw something in the road, averting my eyes assuming it was roadkill. However, I second guessed, wondering if it were something else. I looked forward again to see another freshly thrown kitten from a monster's car in the middle of the road. I maneuvered over him and immediately took a U-turn, parked at an auto repair shop and ran down the road to retrieve the furball I'd seen. More cars passed over him and I prayed he'd be unharmed when I scooped him up. A car screeched to a halt in front of him as I did so. I felt no broken bones, but his mouth was bloody and his bottom lip dangled precariously. I rushed him to the vet (his sibling I'd seen in the road first did not survive). Buster is brave soul who has not only recovered, but bounded back to life. Traveling everywhere with me since 4 weeks of age, don't be surprised if you meet him one day!
On my walks to and from the mailbox each day, I became aware of a gorgeous Siamese kitten following me as though I was the Pied Piper. Believing this beauty to be a female, I named her Suzy after my late grandmother. It didn't take long to discover I had a boy named Sue on my hands. So in honor of the singer and songwriter, he became Johnny Silverstein. I photographed him and made many attempts to find him a home before realizing he had his sights set on me. One day he simply waltzed in the door after me, picked out a favorite toy and helped himself to dinner. The rest is history.
Hoppy limped into our lives months past with a leg so badly deformed and bleeding, it broke the heart. For what seemed a long while, he'd come to eat but no closer. Each time he appeared thinner and thinner as though the malady he carried were draining him. At his thinnest, he seemed to care less and less if I pet him while he ate. Then one morning as I fed him, he allowed me to pick him up and place into a carrier. Off to the veterinarian and a month’s worth of visits. Hoppy convalesced on my back patio for a few weeks to gain strength for surgery. Brushed and fed, he began to improve. His right front leg then removed and no burden to him now. Hopalong Cassidy and I are deeply and forever grateful to all of his newfound friends and even strangers whose donations made a second chance at life possible. A more thankful, adoring, contented cat I've never met. Hoppy's love has put me over the moon!
I stepped onto my front porch one warm, Florida summer evening to take in the glow of a full moon. Suddenly, a ball of fluff appeared on my toes and gazed up at me with two of the biggest eyes I'd ever seen. Miss Charley Moon has grown into one of the most adventurous, youthful, mischievous, clever, crafty, yet as loving a furry little soul as I've ever known.
Sweet little Olive was rescued from a hoarder who had collected over 100 cats in her home. At a Petco weekend adoption event I fell in love with her "glowing" green eyes (in reality her eyes are yellow, with over large pupils). She is partially blinded by her large "olive" eyes, but nonetheless quick on her feet and playful as a kitten. She loves her noisy toys and ribbons best, but nothing makes her happier than licking my hair early in the morning. And although I have to hide under the pillow when I want to sleep in, Olive's snuggles melt my heart each and every time.
Opening my front door, I came upon a mother cat nursing five kittens. Three of these babies have gone to loving homes, but two remained. The big brother being Mr. Spock. He is one of the rare "Hemingway" or polydactyl cats, claiming six toes on each of his front paws. With these boxing mitts, he keeps his little brother in line and kneads my belly like there's no tomorrow. A big lug with an even bigger heart. He considers himself alpha of the herd, but Charley runs operations from the wings (don't tell him that). With cool composure, dignity, persistence and simple love, he has captured my heart.
As you know, I opened my front door and came upon a mother cat nursing five kittens (Mr. Spock among them). The runt of the litter, but by no means feeble, is Tux. He has the quickest, craftiest, most cunning mind of any cat to own me. He once singlehandedly took out an entire entertainment center and the television with it (suffering not even a scratch). Tux also routinely plays magician and disappears over my patio wall to visit the kitties next door and then sneaks back without anyone the wiser. But despite his numerous hi-jinx and mischievous ways, he will snuggle right up next to you and lick your fingers til you've forgotten your exasperation and love him for the little rascal he is.