He was scrawny, ragged and soaked, a tiny, pathetic black and white kitten, hunched in the grass at the side of the road. My neighbor had called me a week earlier about a baby she'd seen hanging around her house. She was sure he'd been abandoned. I've only known this neighbor for a few months, but she's already got me pegged for a sucker. She called to ask, "If I can catch it, will you take it?" The moment I mentioned the kitten to Ron, I got the, NO MORE CATS speech. I ignored it, of course, and went to see anyway. No kitty. The neighbor called to ask if I could assume feeding duty for a few days while she was away. The food I left was eaten after the first night, but not the second, by which time I had still not seen the little orphan. The neighbor returned. No kitten. We figured he was a goner. Then yesterday morning, on my way home from the farmers' market, I spotted the adorable little wretch, a quarter mile down from the neighbor's place. I pulled over and approached. When I got close, he darted into the thicket. I heard him crying from the bushed, like he wanted help, but he wouldn't come out. I took the car home, then walked back to the spot. There he was again, at the road's edge. I bent and reached to lift him, but again, he bulleted into the ferns. I returned once more, this time with food. Score! He came out, famished. The skinny fellow rode my palm and continued to eat from the small paper plate I held in front of him as we trudged up the road, willing to suspend all distrust of me for a meal. Tucked into a cozy spare bedroom, dry and warm, his tummy full, he purred like a well-tuned engine. We cuddled. We fell in love. I knew if I couldn't find him a home within days, or maybe hours, I'd give up and keep him. I called my friend Janet, the first, best cat person I know. It just so happens that Janet recently lost one of her kitties, and she was excited about the prospect of being a new kitty mom again, rescuing a lost soul. I delivered him to her and her son Carson last night. They were surprised at how small he was, but delighted! Janet called today to assure me that our darling survivor has since pooped and peed. He continues to eat well. She too has fallen fast in love with him. Some might say he's the luckiest stray kitten in the islands. I say he's gotten the loving, happy, forever home he deserves. It's what they all deserve.
This is my beautiful mom. She died last Sunday. For those who knew her, my heart breaks with you. For those who did not, here's an introduction to the best confidante, role model and mother a girl could hope for in life. This is the obituary I'd planned to submit to the local paper, but have opted instead to publish here. Obituary: Beverly Todd Bev -- my mom -- was a longtime caregiver, advocate, and dear friend to countless elderly in South Salem. Hers was a kind and generous spirit. She devoted much of her life to the welfare of others, giving wholly of herself and doing so always with great affection and humor. She was born Beverly Marie Steinberger in Silverton, July 23, 1938, the first child and only daughter of Art and Marie Steinberger. Her brothers called her Bevvy Buns, a nickname she grew fond of and wore proudly within the family circle as an adult. Bev attended St. Paul’s Elementary School in Silverton, Silverton High School and Marylhurst Co...
Comments
Anne
We must compare cat stories and photos next summer at residency!
Anne