O and I are both dog people and have been all our lives. We didn’t really dislike cats – just had no use for them.
God said “HA!” to that and sent a very pregnant Mama Kitty to have her babies in one of our barns about five years ago. The rest, as they say, is feline history.
At first they were just little curiosities. We’d get a glimpse of them every now and then as Mama Kitty moved them from place to place. She took such good care of her four babies, even when the remnants of Hurricane Ivan blew into town. I knew we were hooked when my dog-loving husband put on a raincoat and went looking for the kitties in the midst of the storm, finding them warm and dry (much drier than he was) under a hollowed-out log at the edge of our woods.
As they grew, O and I would take our lawn chairs out in the evening and just sit and watch their antics as they ran and played and explored their world. They also became less skittish, letting us get closer and closer to them as the weeks passed. Mama Kitty was very tame and loved to be petted, which showed the kittens that perhaps we weren’t so bad after all. When they were a couple of months old, I noticed that one of the kittens, Opie, had been attacked by something. He had a huge gash in his side – it looked horrible – but I simply couldn’t get close enough to catch him and get him to the vet.
He healed physically but spent the first few years of his life terrified of the world. He liked to be near us when we were outside, but as his sister and brothers would come running up for petting, he’d sit a ways off in the yard watching. As months passed he’d inch closer, sitting on the patio when we were out there in the chairs. He WANTED to be petted. You could see it in his eyes as he watched the other cats come over, unafraid. Every month he seemed to edge his way closer, rubbing up against the hand rail on the steps or on the leg of the bbq grill nearby.
God said “HA!” to that and sent a very pregnant Mama Kitty to have her babies in one of our barns about five years ago. The rest, as they say, is feline history.
At first they were just little curiosities. We’d get a glimpse of them every now and then as Mama Kitty moved them from place to place. She took such good care of her four babies, even when the remnants of Hurricane Ivan blew into town. I knew we were hooked when my dog-loving husband put on a raincoat and went looking for the kitties in the midst of the storm, finding them warm and dry (much drier than he was) under a hollowed-out log at the edge of our woods.
As they grew, O and I would take our lawn chairs out in the evening and just sit and watch their antics as they ran and played and explored their world. They also became less skittish, letting us get closer and closer to them as the weeks passed. Mama Kitty was very tame and loved to be petted, which showed the kittens that perhaps we weren’t so bad after all. When they were a couple of months old, I noticed that one of the kittens, Opie, had been attacked by something. He had a huge gash in his side – it looked horrible – but I simply couldn’t get close enough to catch him and get him to the vet.
He healed physically but spent the first few years of his life terrified of the world. He liked to be near us when we were outside, but as his sister and brothers would come running up for petting, he’d sit a ways off in the yard watching. As months passed he’d inch closer, sitting on the patio when we were out there in the chairs. He WANTED to be petted. You could see it in his eyes as he watched the other cats come over, unafraid. Every month he seemed to edge his way closer, rubbing up against the hand rail on the steps or on the leg of the bbq grill nearby.
Finally one day – VOILA – he was in a group of his siblings who were getting loves and O was able to scratch Opie’s back. The funniest part was that Opie was in heaven until he turned around, noticed someone was touching him, and headed for the hills. So for a while there, you could pet him as long as he didn’t realize it.
Then one day he gathered up every ounce of his bravery and just let us love on him. Each night he’d come sit on the back steps and peer in through the blinds, waiting for petting. In the weeks before his death, O was even able to pick him up. I could not believe it.
Then one day he gathered up every ounce of his bravery and just let us love on him. Each night he’d come sit on the back steps and peer in through the blinds, waiting for petting. In the weeks before his death, O was even able to pick him up. I could not believe it.
Opie was my favorite. He’d been so scared so much of his life, yet even though he was still fearful, he chose to be brave and vulnerable and loved. There’s a lesson in there for all of us.
Last night I couldn’t help but glance at the back door expecting to see that little black and white face peering in at me. But of course he wasn’t there. His body is resting in his warm bed, covered by a soft blanket and buried back by our grape vines. His sweet spirit is finally no longer scared, and I hope he is racing around kitty Heaven playing and getting lots and lots of loves. He deserves them.
I love you Ops. I’ll never forget you my brave boy.
Last night I couldn’t help but glance at the back door expecting to see that little black and white face peering in at me. But of course he wasn’t there. His body is resting in his warm bed, covered by a soft blanket and buried back by our grape vines. His sweet spirit is finally no longer scared, and I hope he is racing around kitty Heaven playing and getting lots and lots of loves. He deserves them.
I love you Ops. I’ll never forget you my brave boy.
