Meet the Cats!

Freddy Kitty came to live with us when he was just a week and a half old. He was barely big enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Every day my daughter would have her friends drive her home from school so she could hand feed the little guy. We watched his progress anxiously, not expecting him to live long.

Fred surprized us all and grew to be strong and healthy, if not too bright. The biggest challenge of his upbringing was teaching him to "scratch and bury" in the litter box. We had many a laugh watching my teenage daughter on her hands and knees manipulating Fred's little paws through the kitty sand trying to get the right idea into his little brain.

When Fred was six or so he gave us a big scare. One evening he started acting strangely. My daughter took him to the vet the next morning. A lenghty examination, tests and x-rays. Our greatest fears were realized. Fred was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and given only a few days to live.

With heavy hearts we took him home and tried to make his last days comfortable and to distill precious memories of his years with us. I guess Fred wasn't listening when the vet made his pronouncement though. After a couple of days he seemed to be back to his old self. We watched his rapid improvement with astonishment and finally put in another call to the vet.

More x-rays showed the tumor unchanged. No one had any answers, yet Fred was obviously much better. The vet warned us to take it day by day and not to expect too much.

And so we did. That was nearly seven years ago. Age has slowed him somewhat, but Fred is still here, purring his way through our hearts and onto the sofa.