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PB's story (long)
Thu, 04 May 2006 21:02:26 GMT rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
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Shirley...
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A young lady knocked on my door in the summer of 1997, she had a very
large cardboard box with her and in the box were 2 very frightened, jXwXeXrXmXoXnXt...
jet black, 6 month old kittens. she had found them in her garden when they were about 3 months old and it took quite a while before they trusted her enough to let her pick them up and bring them to me. Lois...
All I saw of the pair of them for weeks and weeks were 4 shining eyes as they hid in the wardrobe or under a chair, but gradually one of them, Patch, decided that my feet were worthy of investigation and from then on every time I went into their room I had a large kitten attached to my foot. PB (Patches Brother) was not so easily won over and he continued to hide until the time I found a home for his brother. Gradually PB started coming out from behind the chair, he would sit and watch some of the other kittens come and eat treats from my hand (there were about 15 of them living in my back bedroom). One day he found the courage to accept some of the offered treats, not from my hand but off the floor close by. Eventually I managed to stroke his head and that was it, love at first touch, we never looked back. polonca12000...
By the time PB and 10 of the others had been with me for a year it was clear that they weren't going to find suitable homes, some of them like Big Tabby and Sherpa were still untouchable, but they had formed a family of sorts. DH and I decided that they could live out their lives with us and we moved them into an enclosure in the garden. Eventually we released them all, it was like all their dreams had come true, they climbed the trees and for a while 11 cats could be seen sleeping in the middle of the pollarded Horse Chestnut tree. They also took over the greenhouse, we used to laugh about there being more cats than plants in there during the summer months. They chased bugs, rolled in the grass, chased leaves and snow flakes, pounced on each other and played tag...they were truly happy. PB became my horticultural expert, he would instruct me with a gentle nudge of his head where to put a plant and woe betide me if I ignored his opinion. Many a morning I've gone out into the garden only to find my carefully arranged flower beds re-arranged. Once I learnt how to do things PB's way he would sit on the bench and supervise my endeavours with gentle meows and mrrrupps to let me know he approved. One of PB's favourite times was summer mornings when I would go outside to eat my breakfast, he always insisted on having the last few spoonfuls of milk from my cereal, and all the other cats knew - after having their ears well boxed a few times - that this was his special time. Actually PB always considered that first and foremost I was his personal slave and he would bop anybody he thought was getting to much of my attention - this even applied to DH who he wouldn't bop but he would insinuate himself between us. Having PB sit on your lap was quite an experience, he would hang on for dear life using all the natural crampons that Bast gave him. Every year from May until October my knees would sport a fetching array of red spots courtesy of PB. For a feral cat PB was exceptionally gentle and well behaved even when visiting TED, which thankfully was not that often, about 7 times (including yesterday and today) in 9 years. Not one hiss, baring of fangs or scratch, no matter what was done to him. Over the years many of PB's friends have become ill or injured and we've had to say goodbye to them. Picasso, Dusty, Sherpa, Bibi, Roley, Minstrel and now PB are all waiting at the bridge......till we meet Monique Y. Mudama...
again old friends. polonca12000...
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