Purrcy

[shanmonster]

When I was about 13 or 14, Dad decided it was time to buy a couple of pigs. So we all hoofed it off to a farmer's place a few villages away. Dad chose a young wriggling sow and barrow (named Whip and Jill), and I roamed around the farm being rather bored.

When the piglets were stowed away in burlap bags and we were about to get into the truck, the farmer gestured to me and said, "Come here."

I walked over to him. He reached up through an opening in the barn's ceiling and hauled a terrified gray tabby kitten down. "Want a kitten?"

He thrust the barn kitten at me. It clambered up under my shirt and hung on, shaking all over. It had probably never been touched by a person before.

I looked at Dad. "Can I? Please?"

"Sure," he said. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Mom sputtered. "I'll tell you why not! We already have a female kitten at home, and I'll bet that's a little tom."

And yes, the frightened little cat was a tom. And together with the female kitten (Trubble), he went on to form the Dorn Ridge cat dynasty. He was Dumpling's father, Tommy Dude's grandfather, and the great-grandfather of countless cats for miles and miles.

For the longest time, the kitten, who I christened Purrcy, remained terrified. He would bolt from everyone except for me. He spent all his time hiding in my bedroom. One day, I came home from school, and Mom said he was missing. I called and called, but he didn't answer.

Finally, I found him way back in the corner under my parents' bed, trembling with fear.

He never did stop being a scaredy cat until he was fullgrown. I never stopped being his favourite person, either.

I was awakened one night by a strange crashing sound. I got up to investigate and saw a sorry sight. Purrcy's head was completely stuffed inside a soup can he had pulled from the garbage. He was tearing around the house in a blind panic, suffocating to death. I tore over to him and hauled the can off his head. He scratched me in the process, inhaled mightily, and let loose with the longest, loudest cat scream I have ever heard. In another five minutes, he would have been dead. I let him outside, and then bawled my eyes out.

About two weeks later, Mom found him lying on the road, a tiny drop of blood at the corner of his mouth. He'd been hit by my school bus.

Comments

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

I love your pet stories.

Also, *sniffle*.

[the-lucky-nun.livejournal.com]

I hate it when kitties get run over and die. thankfully, I have never lost a cat to a road accident. all my kitties died of old age, or were put down when they started to be miserable and in a lot of pain from some age-related ailment.

[shangchi.livejournal.com]

That's sad. I love my kittes. Thanks for sharing.

[potbelly13.livejournal.com]

I love your childhood stories.
I've had a few cats in my life over the years and some heartbreaking moments too.

[illaparatzo.livejournal.com]

I had a cat of mine get hit by a truck before. We found her lying in the gutter, near death. So we put her in a box and tried to keep her comfortable until she finally died, but I guess she didn't feel like it that year. A drunk friend of my dad's came over and gave her mouth to mouth, and I think the alchohol on his breath revived her. She got better, but definitely was not the same cat. Before she got hit she loved to play fight with my dog; after she had no interest in him. She got to be a very nonchalant cat. She lived another five or six years before crawling under a neighbor's house to die about two years ago.

[fourcorners.livejournal.com]

So sad. All your animal stories end so painfully :(