Tribute To White Kitty
I don't have a picture of you, don't know your real name, if you had a home
where someone loved you, or if you made your living on the streets. A big
white tom cat, I had seen you around the neighborhood for a year or so,
hunting mice near the woods, trotting across my driveway in the middle of a
driving snow storm, or crooning to a female cat underneath my bedroom window during the mating season. Two instances I will never forget are the time I went out with a flashlight during the middle of the night to break up a cat fight, and there you were with another male and some neighborhood female, behind my bushes. You looked at me with the most exasperated expression, and I felt as if I had just caught my teenage son having a tryst with a floosie. The second unforgetable meeting was when you scared the bejeebers out of my sister who was visiting. You had gone into my garage (the door was open) and ran out when she approached while walking up the driveway. She almost fainted.
Within the last week, when it was so hot, you started visiting my girls
through the open sliding screen door in the back. While they were growling
and hissing at you, you stayed sweet and gave little chirping noises back to
them. One night, I woke up my husband to come see you, "White Kitty's
here!" He came downstairs, and there you were in the garage again.
Then last Friday, I noticed a white mound in the vacant grassy lot across
the street from my house. It looked like a pile of unmelted snow, but it
was too hot for that. The neighbors across the street had been out cutting
the grass earlier in the day, and I thought they probably took off their
shirts and forgot to pick them up before they went in the house.
The mound was still there on Saturday.
I woke up Sunday morning and the weather had changed drastically. It was
windy, cold, and rainy. And the white mound was still there. I had a bad
feeling, and got out my binoculars to see if I could tell what it was. It
was very difficult to focus, and I still could not make out any details,
when I focused on the upper edge of the mound and could make out tufts of
fur. My heart sank, and I knew it was you. I couldn't leave you out there
any longer, especially unprotected in the rain. I got a trash bag, went
across the street, and there you were. I could see no outside trauma, but I
am assuming that you were hit by a car while trying to cross the street. I
wondered how you got into the middle of that lot - quite a ways from the
street. I picked you up, put you in the trash bag, and stashed you in the
garage where you had enjoyed hiding. I cried my eyes out and wondered if
there was a family somewhere waiting for you to come home. I hope you
didn't suffer too long or too much.
Monday morning, I took you to our animal clinic and asked them to have you
cremated and the ashes returned to me. The receptionist gave me a hug and
thanked me. She said, "There are too many throwaways." I got the ashes
back today. Over the weekend, I am going to scatter them in some of the
places I know you used to hang out at. But I also will keep some in my
home, in a place of honor. So you will know that someone cared about you
and you will always have a home in my heart.
In Loving and Precious Memory of
~ White Kitty ~
ęCopyright 2002 - By Laurie