The Prodigal Tom
This tale may be difficult for some to handle. It involves one of the most traumatic times of my 9 lives but hang on until the end. It will be worth it, I pawmise.
First, a little background info. I spent my formative years as an outside cat. My two litter mates had not survived before the cold set in but my Mom cat, Pretty, and I spent the first freezing cold winter, in an old outhouse.
Every day we would make our way along a warn path to the porch where our human would feed and sit with us. The porch was toasty warm if the sun was shining.
That winter was bone-chillingly frigid but we endured it. With the spring came a litter for Pretty and myself. All those kittens did not survive. We each had another litter but none of the bundles of joy made it past a month old.
Then Pretty went off (probably to be with the others) and there was only me, Minnie, left to carry on the family name. It began to turn cold once more and I prepared for another harsh Nov-Apr. But luck was with me and my human allowed me into the house.
This was a brand new experience and scary. I trusted my human but there were others in the house that I continued to be frightened of. The human was kind and let me sleep with her where I remained warm, both inside and out.
Continuing to venture outside was a daily ritual. I have to admit, I spent more and more time in the heated dwelling. Taming me was not so easy and I would rebel for a night of fun and freedom every now and then. This did not seem to make my human happy. Being feral was in my blood though and household rules had to be broken.
Then . . . Spring sprung!
Now, this is where the real story begins. My human kept speaking about something called a V. E. T. and how I had to visit this VET person to get fixed. As there was, clearly, nothing wrong with me, I ignored the fool and continued to hide out under a chair in the hallway as there was a secret that needed protecting.
My human suspected that I was with kittens and lo and behold come the 3rd of March, I had 4 of the cutest babies ever. (The runt of the litter made his appearance after midnight, so he has his own birthday).
Being a Mom again was wonderful. Feeding and looking after the offspring brought out a softer, loving side of me that my human enjoyed watching. I nurtured and taught these four little creatures, all that I knew.
Giving birth, upstairs in the human’s bedroom, meant that the youngsters were too small to climb to the rest of the house but they were carried downstairs in a box regularly to run around. After a month or so, the eldest kitten, Tricky Woo, disappeared!
Human Mom attempted to speak through her tears. Something about him going to a good home but all I knew was that I had to find my kitten. I meowed relentlessly and searched all over the house for him. Human Mom watched me and cried as I searched frantically for the lost kitten. The more I meowed for my boy, the harder she sobbed. It did not help. Tricky Woo was gone like all the others! A sadness enveloped the entire home but we got on with living our lives.
Years passed by while the other kittens and I spent our time together in peace and harmony. Until we were uprooted to another home. This new place had two cats in it yet one of them was very familiar.
It was Tricky Woo! And despite the fact that he had changed his name (or had it changed for him) I could tell he was my little boy. The other cat, a ginger Tom, is constantly getting hissed at by all of us but not ‘Boots’. We have tolerated him from the start.
The Prodigal Tom has returned to his family (even if it was us that had to find him) and we are all thrilled about that! Happy Birthday my lovely Kittens!