Rescued Pets, Now Being Told..Molly is gone

The stories of the rescued cats are being written and suitable photographs are being edited. When ready, the tales will be told.

The stories are from the point of view as cat caretakers.  I will not attempt to tell stories of cat adventures they know and keep secret from the rest of us.  The above photo is Molly waiting for friends just outside faerie land...that is all I know and all I can tell. We will only relate  facts of the cat lives as we know it true and verified.
Several of the cats have passed on to a new spiritual world (the God whom I know can do that) and we will do the best we can with old photos and even older prints scanned when possible.  New photos are being taken of the living rescued cats showing their present good looks.  These cats somehow keep their looks better than I do.  I happen to know quite precisely how old I am in Human Years, making me far from young but one cat is older in human years.  She jumps better than I do, drinks from a faucet better than I do and sleeps more soundly than I do.  I suspect she eats more regularly than I do.

An exercise for fun if you have a cat or dog:

CAT YEARS---HUMAN YEARS  Cats and Dogs mature rather quickly. The latest info on cat years and human year equivalents goes something like this:

Age 1 year  = 15 human years   Age 2 years =  24 human years
 After that figure 4 years per human year
DOG YEARS---HUMAN YEARS   Dog years are said to be similar to cat years but will vary with the breed. Some dogs naturally live longer than others and the years conversion is therefore slightly different with dog breed. The numbers above will be relatively close for dogs if you keep average life spans of different breeds in mind.  With generalizations like the years conversions, we must always realize the simple fact that cats are not dogs an dogs are not cats. They  happen to be domesticated and after that they are as different as..oh yes, dogs and cats.

The old method used 7 years across the board as dog/cat years to human years. Even as a child I wondered how our 15 year old mixed breed dog got around so well when close to 105 human years old!  Something was very wrong with that numbering method. 

The next part of this page will be the first Rescued Cat Tale...coming soon.

DECEMBER 14, 2011  This is someone's birthday and we wish them well.
Today, the cat tales begin.  Photos are added as available, a necessity for those raised without imagination stirred by reading and seeing in the mind's eye.  As for the rest of us, imagine the scene and I will show the cats.


As a little kid I remember the pony man coming around the neighborhood.  A short ride in the front yard cost a pittance. One summer day while we kids admired the pony, a strange man walked into the yard, a man with a beard and carrying a dirty bag on his shoulder.  The pony man had seen him before and told my mom it was ok.  She went in the kitchen and came out to hand the man a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of water. He ate, said thanks and left.  After that visit, we had more of these men, hobos my mother called them, hungry hobos.  They learned soon enough where to show up for a sandwich  The word got around. 


A stray cat must know to show up on a dark and stormy night, especially a cold one with a hint of sleet in the air. What they do is come by several days before, approaching with a cautious shyness, backing up just out of reach when a hand is extended to pet. We naturally put out some food and back off to allow the cautious cat to eat. It’s eating! Yes, and it will be back and eat again. Soon enough we will be oh so stealthy and get close enough to touch the strange kitty. It lets us pet it a moment and meows. Do you honestly believe we can be stealthier than a cat? It knows every moment exactly where we are.

Then comes the dark and stormy night, we have not seen the cat all day and some of the food is still there. Has it moved on? We look out again, concerned and more worried as the cold wind throws a few drops of icy rain on our faces. “..Meooow” in the dark then the cat is there, rubbing its head against my leg and eating the remaining food. The poor thing is soaked and shivering. Get the cat carrier, grab a litter box and put it inside in a room to itself with food and water; that is the plan for the night. The other kitties living here must stay out of contact until the stray has visited the vet for an exam, blood work, shots and neutering or spaying as needed. The next morning the stray kitty is on the way to the vets and the house kitties are still trying to peek and reach under the door to that room.

In summer weather, the plan goes a slightly different path:  "If the stray is still outside tomorrow morning we will take it to the vets." It always is and it does go. We tell the vet the same thing as before: “This cat needs the works so we can find it a home.” Our vet looks at me with a sly grin and says, “I will call you tomorrow. If we can’t get is all done in time tomorrow we will need another day. This kitty will definitely have a home…” Why the little smile at the corner of his mouth when he said home? I know our veterinarian and he knows the history of strays showing up on the front porch on dark and stormy nights.

This cat will find a nice home and we will see that it happens. How many kitties do we have…no matter at this point, go ahead and add one more. Whether rescued strays, kitties adopted from the shelter or giveaways we run into at an inopportune and weak moment, cats are going to join this family one way or the other. We do hold a limit to five and now it is three with a limit held in kindness to a quite old lady, a little black and white long hair who does not need to finish her time here in competition with a new cat who does not understand. She has been here going on 18 years and was almost lost to anesthesia when spayed years ago. She makes beeping sounds when she jumps and talks in interesting ways, often with her mouth closed. Now that she is hard of hearing, when she opens her little mouth to speak you will know it.

This then is the beginning of the Cat Pages of this blog. Told will be the stories of a few cats who live here now or who were part of the family and now have graves and markers bearing their names in the woods on the hill behind the house.  I would be ok with being buried there in good company.

Molly was very much like the cats riding in on dark and stormy nights but she changed the time slightly.  After hanging around the front porch for nearly a week in February of 2009, the unusually comfortable weather changed to what was expected of  February.
The birds who were already fussing at me to spread out sunflower seed on this surprisingly cold morning. The situation was perfect for a convincing "rescue me" presentation by this stray cat. There was even icy rain in the air.  I laid out the seed then the cat appeared, wet and speaking to me while rubbing against the step post near my right foot.  The morning birds stayed their distance in the trees some feet away, fussing more and this time at the cat.

Throw a towel in the carrier, get to the van, buckle up  and head to the appointment this time...greeted with that knowing smile when I said, "Paul, we have this stray female cat. I'll leave her for the day and she will be picked up tomorrow.  We need her checked out and spayed and then find her a home..."   He took her out of the carrier and while feeling her for any abnormalities softly said, "Yes, find her a home you will. She is a beautiful gray short hair."

Molly in the fall of 2011, about 2 1/2 years since the cold February
morning when she used cat timing and persistence to be taken in. 

We fully expected to get a call to let us know it would be a day more before the veterinarian could spay this rescued kitty.  The call came and we heard this..."She has already been spayed. Considering her young age, it was likely about a year ago."  Then came the mystery, why was a beautiful spayed female cat wandering loose and unfed in  the neighborhood?

continued soon...
The tale of Molly is coming to a close, the rest will not be told and for her privacy it will not be public knowledge. You see, now a little more than 1 year since her photo was added to the story, Molly is very ill.  She has gone through more than I would ever want to face in fighting cancer.   My eyes fill with tears today, just back from a visit to our trusted veterinarian.  Molly is sleeping on the sofa in the living room.  She is quiet, still, not very active anymore.   She cannot jump like she used to and a cat is supposed to do with no boundaries.  The low height of the sofa is now a difficult jump.  Enough said.   She might get better, God knows and we do not.  She might let us know it is time to move on to another world.  Now she wants and deserves privacy.  

I did not expect this story to end so soon.  I did not expect it to end like this.

I can say only good about Molly. She was just about the perfect house cat and a toasty sleeping companion with a sweet meow.
Now, this cat tale is done.   God Bless All.  (Tom turns from the keyboard, stands and walks past Molly sleeping. As he goes to a different part of the home and the door shuts on this story.)  #
Now, on December 19, 2012, I can tell the end to this story. The only detail here is that on the afternoon of Sunday, December 9, sweet Molly died suddenly while in the arms of my sweet wife.  We buried Molly on a hill in the woods behind our modest home. Her. living spirit is in the hand of God, Creator. There is no pain and no illness.  As for us, our hearts are broken and mending very, very, very slowly with memories of this cat stirring tears of memories.

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