Farewell Mr. Kitty
Born: Sometime before 2000
Died: March 1, 2013
He came to me one very cold and rainy night in the fall of 2000, I think it was probably October or November. I heard this God awful noise coming from outside the barn. When I opened the door, in walked this Siamese cat. He was wet, cold and hungry. I gave him a dish of warm milk, which he gulped down quickly and begged for more, so I got him another one, and a dish of cat food too. He quickly devoured that. And began to walk away, I said to him, you sure are a pretty kitty. He looked back at me in a snide way, and then put his head and tail up high and trotted off as if to say, “That’s Mr. Kitty to you, thank you very much”, as he trotted over to the stack of hay and curled up to sleep. From that moment on, his name became Mr. Kitty. He had obviously been abandoned by his family. I have no idea how old he was then, but he was a mature cat.
At first he was not interested in affection or petting, he finally allowed me to touch him after about 4 years, and that was limited to petting him on his head. Over time, he began to remind me of a person on the autistic spectrum. He began to let me pet his head, but he would always raise his head to put pressure on his head. The harder I’d push down, the better he’d like it. If I were to try to pull my hand away before he was ready for me to quit, he’d grab my hand with his claws and wouldn’t let me leave. As time passed, and he became older, he began to like to be petted all over, and he would follow me out and around the farm at times. He even let me give him medication for a sinus infection he had last year, that sure surprised me. He wasn’t interested in catching mice or birds or other things most cats like to do. That was beneath him! Time seems to change things, as this summer, he began to hunt and catch a mouse every once in a while. I guess it just took him a while to get a taste for mice. He started to show signs of loosing weight around January. His appetite was good, and he ate with vigor, but was loosing weight. Then he quit eating, I tried some canned cat food, tuna, warm milk, and he just wasn’t interested. I began to plan the trip to the vet to have him put to rest, but on March ! when I went out to the barn, he was gone. I shed a tear or two, and put him on his bead of hay until I could decide how I would dispose of his body. I will miss you Mr. Kitty, my narcissistic little friend.
