from Janice M.

THE STORY OF GOOSE....

I'd like to share memories of a very special cat I had...
Her name was Goose.

I didn't name her -- just inherited the name when I inherited her. A lady that worked for me came in one day and said someone had dropped off two kittens at her house. She wasn't too thrilled about this since she had never had cats and owned four cockatoos.

Her husband insisted she go to the market and buy the best cat food she could find - he said if they fed the cats good, they would get strong enough to leave! (ha ha) within a few days, he accidentally ran over one of the kittens who had gone to sleep on the tire of his truck. That left one kitten. She kept trying to get me to take it, but I wasn't sure.

Then one night my son, Seth, who was then about four, were visiting at her home. I saw this cat across the pool - scrawny and lanky - frankly I wasn't very interested. I was laying on a chaise while everyone else was swimming when this cat -- kitten (about four months old) walked over and leaned up against me and looked me in the eyes - all I can say is that it was instant mutual love - this cat had the most beautiful face I have ever seen - I knew this cat was mine. I told my friend and took Goose home.

Goose was beautiful black and white - shiny black and snow white - from the beginning she could read my mind - literally - and she adopted Seth. Every night, when I put my son to bed, Goose would sit, either on the foot of his bed, or on the trunk which served as his night stand, and stay awake all night - just watching Seth.

At precisely 6 am Goose would come into my room and gently slap me on the face to wake me, as if to tell me "I'm off duty now - its your turn. Goose would them have breakfast, go outside to relieve herself, and proceed to sleep all day. In the evening she would play with Seth while he watched TV then once again watch him all night. This went on for years. We just accepted it.

Then, Goose developed feline leukemia -- just before the vaccine became available. The night before she died, Seth and I sat with her, knowing she would not make it until morning. While trying to comfort her, we discussed where to bury her. I was a single Mom, and Seth was young, so it had to be someplace where we were able to dig -- so we decided under the crepe myrtle bush.

Now up until then we had never seen Goose under the crepe myrtle -- we only chose this, cuz the ground was soft there and we thought we would be able to dig there -- next morning when I went out I found Goose dead -- laying under the crepe myrtle!

For many years I never had another cat -- no one could replace Goose - until just a couple of years ago I was in a pet store that handles adoptions - I had no intentions of getting a pet -- just looking for supplies for my doxie -- and there was Marmalade - and somehow we connected - just as Goose and I had.

Sometimes I think Goose send Marmy to me.

Sorry if this is too long - just needed to share the story of Goose

from Janice M.

Marmalade

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I love this!

Must share a funny...when my husband and I married two years ago, and I moved into his house, he was an avid cat hater with two Boston Terrier's, who he claimed would tear my cat to shreds.

He tried every way possible to persuade me to find another home for my cat, Marmalade, but I refused. Take me, take my cat. Long story short, My husband and Marmy are inseparable! Marmalade follows my husband every where he goes, even lays on his computer desk when my husband is working there.

Marmy has the dogs totally under control. My husband even insists I buy "gourmet" cat food for Marmy. I think Marmy knew my husband was a cat hater, and set out to prove otherwise! Cats have magical powers!

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My husband swears that Marmalade has a tree or the fence marked for the days of the week - Larry gives him a special treat on Sundays and Wednesdays - and believe it or not - Marmy knows when those days come -- when Larry comes home from work, Marmy keeps trying to lead him to the special 'treat dish'.

This is marvelous entertainment -- just to watch the two of them.

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All cats are special -- but some are outstanding. I've been fortunate to own (sorry, cats own you) two such cats. Marmalade will let you do anything to him. If you are a cat person, you know this is not the norm.

Marm will let you hold him upside down, brush him all over, and I mean 'all over' - pick up the brush and he rotates, side to front to side to back, as long as anyone is willing to brush - he is the most people cat I have ever known.

When children come to visit - he allows them to handle him any way they want and never scratches - but as soon as they let go - Marmy hides from them. He knows how to change channels with the TV remote and plays with my husband's keyboard -- funny thing - he never bothers me at my computer.

from Carolyn S.

MY MARMALADE

I have read all these cat stories with interest and then along came Marmalade and I couldn't resist sending you the story of MY Marmalade:

We weren't sure what we were seeing the first time or two we saw him. He was an orange phantom blur that occasionally appeared in our back yard. When we were finally able to see him, we couldn't believe our eyes.

His coat had rows of missing hair that looked like corn rows from his nose to the middle of his back. The rest of his body was covered with large patches that had no hair. His eyes were matted with the liquid that continuously poured from them. He huddled on our patio in such abject misery that we knew we had to do something for him.

The problem was that we were unable to catch him. Although he was obviously very sick, he still moved with the speed of a feral cat when we tried to capture him. Finally we were able to throw a large towel over him and pick him up. We took him to the animal emergency room and told the vet that we knew nothing about him other than the fact that we wanted to make him feel better.

The vet performed all sorts of tests on him. He came back negative for feline leukemia, for feline AIDS, and for all the other tests she performed. She said that he had the mange, which is unusual for a cat, and that he had an ear mite infection so bad that the mites had eaten the hair off his head.

The vet cautioned us that if we wanted to cure this cat we were going to have to spend time and money--and the sensible thing to do was to put him out of his misery. Instead, we wanted to try to make him feel better and he seemed to realize that we would do that. How could we turn a blind eye to such expectant trust? We told the vet that we wanted to try to save him.

His treatment consisted of regular doses of a powerful antibiotic and antiseptic dips every two weeks for six weeks. During this time he could not have contact with the other cats because he was contagious. So he lived the fist six weeks in our house in the guest bathroom. We wore gloves every time we touched him and he seemed to very appreciative of everything we did.

We named him Marmalade because when he did get a coat of hair that was healthy, it was the exact color of orange marmalade. It turned out that we had named him well, for he was as sweet as any confection that we had ever eaten.

He did recover and has many times repaid us with the joy he has given us. His purr is so loud that you can hear it from one end of the house to the other and he sleeps at night precariously posed between my husband's ankles.

His favorite place to be during the day is lying below the heat vent in our bedroom. He has an uncanny sense of timing that allows him to know before hand when the furnace comes on and he is positioned exactly beneath the vent when the furnace comes on.

Marmalade is an old cat now and spends his days peacefully snoozing most of the time. Except, that is, when he has to teach those young whippersnapper kittens how to respect their elders.

from Pat O.

Mohawk

My son let his boys go to the pet shop and pick out a kitten about 2 years ago. It was solid white with a streak of gray on its head. The shop owners had already given the kitten a name. Mohawk. So that was the name he kept.

Mohawk is an outdoor cat. He has his bed up on a work table in the garage. A warm light keeps the bed heated. Mohawk has his own little door at the side of the garage where he can leave and enter at will.

My daughter's 10 cats are all very independent and really keep their distance from people. Mohawk follows you wherever you go. When I was visiting, he would follow me and when I stopped, he laid across my feet. He is the only cat I've ever seen that would sit up and beg for his food. My grandsons would hold the bites of catfood above him on the worktable, then say, "Sit, Mohawk," and the cat would sit and lift his front paws to receive the food.

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