May 6th 2011 10:01 am
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heeeloooo! where is everfuryone? It seems really quite here on catsters today to me. Are we just not hearing you? We didn't get any emails from here alerting us to any activity from our friends.......that cannot be right. Gotta go check the phone link to email. I know yall are here somewhere.
check ya later.
May 11th 2011 10:56 am
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Oh my friend smokey is really fun he writes cool diaries about outdoor adventures and he has some really cool pics up of him and his dog family. Some of them kinda scare me and the gang here at my house well cept for boo she aint scared of nothing. MOL yea she was a street kitty so she feel tough. Anyway if anyone reading my diary hasn't met smokey you might want to be friend him and let him know you read his diary. It makes me wanna go outside....not I am kinda scared of that too. Hey am I a scardy cat or what?
May 18th 2011 11:54 pm
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So the other night mom was laying on the bed with the laptop on her lap, so I went upstairs to the bed room and hopped on the bed with her, I needed to talk to her, she said "hey moe" but she kept on looking at the computer. I walked up to her and stood on my two back legs like a little human, then I placed my paw on her shoulder and told her very loudly what was on my mind. She said said "love you moemoe" so I touched her shoulder and said it again really loud "mewoweeeow meoweeewow" then she got it, she said "ok moemoe you wanna have play time?" Yes! i took the lead and ran downstairs to the kitty room and she followed! Moma says catster is for us but I am not so sure MOL I don't get her attention until she gets off there.
Tiny mighty moe siging off.
June 10th 2011 6:43 pm
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I got a story to tell, and it is kinda really long, but I think some kitty lovers might like it so I am going to put it in my Diary little by little for a few days. My daddy wrote the story he and my mom like to write short stories like a hobby. Daddy wanted to see what other people think about one of his stories. Well mom picked this one and figured with it's content this was a good place to see what humans and kitties think. So it will be in my diary for a few day titled "trucker kitty" part by part. Let me know what you think and I will tell mom and dad. We love comments! So if we don't see some comments we will not take up diary space with the rest of the story. Hoping you like it.
June 10th 2011 7:21 pm
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OK HERE IS PART ONE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK
Shore is cold today:
I drove a company Peterbilt for Francis Gold for a lotta years. Francis was ornery, but she was fair and paid good. She and her husband Ernie had co-drove for about thirty years. She was in a wheel chair from a wreck she and Ernie had many years ago. Ernie came out of it O.K. but Francis never walked again. After Francis got as good as she was gonna get, they got ‘em a new truck and went to drivin’again. Ernie’d winch Francis up into the cab and off they’d go. They’d spent the best years of their lives in the cab of a truck and they loved it. They decided to start their own truckin’ company a few years back and had done real good.
One day Francis got a phone call and Ernie had died of a heart attack. He was drivin’ a new truck back to the yard from Lufkin and had pulled off the highway at the Seven Oaks road side park on highway 59. An old friend walked over to say howdy and found him still behind the wheel. The coroner said Ernie probably knew he was dyin’and pulled off the road to keep from hurtin’ somebody. Francis never quite got over it. I had lost my Cathy the year before and I knew that kind of pain. I don’t reckon you ever get over it.
I was haulin’ a load of recovered pipe east on I-10 from a rig location a little north of El Paso back to the yard in Jacksonville in the middle of January. I had driven through some rough weather from ‘bout Van Horn all the way to Boerne. Lotsa sleet, snow and wind. Took the 1604 loop on over to I-35 north at San Antonio and pulled off the road a little bit north of New Braunfels at a “TA” to fuel up. I went inside and hooked up with a “Subway” sandwich. While I was eatin’, I watched through the window as an attendant fueled up the rig. It was a lot warmer in here than out there. I finished my sandwich and headed for the truck, tipped the fueler, went to step up into the cab and almost fell down!! There on the bottom tank step was a tiny orange ball of fur with these big black eyes starin’ back at me.
“What the heck is that thing” says the attendant.
“I ain’t real sure, but I think it’s a kitten.” Says I.
Real easy-like, I reached down to the little feller and he never moved. He just looked up at me with those big ol’ eyes. I laid my hand on his little back and he was almost froze. He either didn’t know any better or he was so miserable that he really didn’t care, but he never moved when I picked him up. I was wearin’ a parka and slid him into one of the pockets and climbed into the cab. I had a new pair of work boots still in the box back in the sleeper. I took the boots out of the box and threw them in the sleeper, tore up the packin’ to make a bed and put the little feller in it. I cut the bottom out of a styrofoam coffee cup to make him a little bowl and put some water in it for him. He just looked at it, then he just looked up at me with them big eyes and I think we both kinda knew the little feller wasn’t gonna make it. It made my heart hurt.
I finally got that big ol’ “Pete” into high gear headin’ north on I-35. Between watchin’ for black ice and idiot drivers and fightin’ that cold North wind, I managed to find time to lay my hand on the little feller just to let him know he wasn’t alone. Somewhere around Kyle he seemed to drop off between this world and the next. I picked him up and put him in my shirt pocket so’s he could feel my heart beatin’.
“You’re not alone little feller I’m right here with you." I think it was important t otell the little fellar that.
I took state highway 130 at Buda and looped around Austin to I-79 EAST a little west of Hutto. I used to have an uncle who loved to sail. Anytime we took a trip somewhere he would always say the same thing:
“All sheets in the wind;
Sails full and riggin’s pulled tight;
North by north east;
That pretty much summed up where we were at this time. I-79 was the last leg of this trip and other than takin’ the loop around Palestine it was a “straight shot”. Me and that little feller were homeward bound.........farewell.
To say that this last piece of road was rough is an understatement. Hard to believe but I really think the weather was gettin’ worse. It seemed to be gettin’ colder; it was snowin’ and sleetin’ again; the wind picked up; every bridge I crossed was iced up. Gettin’ dark too. It was tough. And I felt in my heart that Little Feller was losin’ his battle. I wanted to pick up the pace but just couldn’t. I said a little prayer for him and that big Cummins engine “growled up” as I spun my tires across another frozen bridge.
I could see the lights of Palestine across my hood in the distance. Gettin’ closer. If we can just make it around the loop without losin’ it, we’re home free.
I made the loop and me and eighty thousand pounds of steel and Peterbilt fought that last 27 miles to the yard. I started thinkin’ on what to do with Little Feller. If he could just make it through the night I’ll take him to my veterinarian Alicia in the mornin’ but it didn’t look good.
I pulled into the “Gold Trucking” yard, parked the rig, wrapped that little kitten in a brand new sweater of mine, climbed down outta’ that rig into that frozen “red dirt” parkin’ lot and hurried into the dispatch office. There in all her glory sat her “highness”, Francis.
“You’re late. Where you been?”she asked. She knew durn well what I’d been through and and durn well why I was runnin’ late.
“Got drunk in Sonora and bet your truck on a “tumble bug” race. Spent the night in the Boerne jail.”
“That figures!” Says she. She knew durn well I didn’t drink.
“What you got in that “Red Wing”box?”
I opened the box and showed her a really sick little kitty and told her the tale. I could tell the sight of that sad little feller touched her heart and she fell in love with him on the spot.
June 11th 2011 10:49 pm
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HERE IT IS PART II OF THE STORY: WHEN WE LEFT FRANCIS AND LITTLE FELLAR LAST THEY HAD JUST MET AND LITTLE FELLAR WAS STRUGGLING TO SURVIVE (YOU CAN READ IT IN YESTERDAY'S DIARY)
“What’er you gonna do with him?”she asked. I told her my plan.
“You don’t know any more about cats than you do about truck drivin’! Give him to me and I’ll take him to “Little sister” tonight”. You see, my vet Alicia was “Little sister” who was Francis’ youngest daughter and the best vet in the known universe. Just my opinion, I could be wrong. Well, that’s just what she done. Alicia fell in love with Little Feller soon’s she saw him that night. He kinda had that affect on people. She knew it would be tough to try and save him but he was a fighter and as she took him under her wing she promised to fight as long as he did, it was touch and go for awhile but he pulled through. Took ‘bout two weeks and he lost some body parts to frostbite but other than havin’ three legs, one ear and no tail, he was pretty much like any other kitten. On top of everything else, Alicia neutered him.
“Holy cow Alicia, you ‘bout through wittlin’ on that poor little kitten?”Says I.
“You just concentrate on drivin’ a truck caveman, I’ll take care of this little kitten!” She was a lot like her momma. Never did get that sweater back.
‘Bout a month later:
“When am I gettin’ my cat back Francis?” I asked.
“When he gets well” she says.
“He looks like he's a doin fine to me!”
“I’ll let you know” she says.
Well, for the next 18 years you never saw Francis without that little cat. She’d bring that cat to the office and you’d think he owned the place. Reckon maybe he did. He never lacked for attention. Even people who didn’t like cats, liked Little Feller. It was funny to see these big ol’ burly truckers rollin’ around on the floor playin’ with that little three legged, one eared, bobtail cat. He had more toys than most kids. He played hard but he’d get tucker’d out pretty quick. Alicia said it was ‘cause of freeze damage to his lungs. It wasn’t unusual to see him curled up in some trucker’s lap, both of them sawin’ logs. The trucker, wore-out from too many lonely days chasin’ that next load and Little Feller just plain wore-out. Wonder what they were dreamin’ ‘bout.
Somewhere along the line Francis retired and her oldest daughter Michelle took over. Shortly after Francis left, I did too. I’d see her now and again. I’d hang around the old office, drink coffee and lie about the old days. I bumped into Francis and Little Feller at the office awhile back. She hugged my neck and told me to stop drinkin’ their coffee. She put Little Feller on the floor and he hobbled over to his bed by the pot bellied stove and he was home again and everything in his world was good. It was the middle of January and I reminded Francis that it was eighteen years this month that I brought Little Feller home. Cold outside. We laughed about the good times and got all teary eyed about the sad times, the bad times and the hard times. Reckon things balance out. Sometime or the other we got to talkin’ about that old cat and when I was gonna get him back. Francis just laughed and said: “That ship has sailed old man. That old cat’s as much a part of my family as one of my girls.” I knew that. I leaned over and gave Frannie another hug and said “adios.” As I walked out into that gray cold to my ol’ pick-up I felt a deep sadness in my heart. I turned around and looked back to see Francis staring out the window at me with little fellar right there in "moma's" arms. I waved. She waved. Little fellar eye blinked at me, and I think in that instant in time I knew somethin’ wasn’t right with Frannie and as little fellar tucked his ole head under her chin, I think he knew it too.
June 12th 2011 11:45 pm
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So that is how story tellers do it MOL. Before I tell the rest of the story (hey that was like Paul Harvey!) I want to ask my diary readers if you wanna hear it no matter what.... it might be a sad ending and it might be a happy ending........ummm. Blizzard (booboo's staring at his photo) already said he wants to read it even though he thinks it's gonna be sad. So do other kitties still wanna read it to the end? Do enquireing minds want to know?
Tell us do you wanna know more or should we let you make your own ending they way you want it????
tiny might moe out
June 13th 2011 9:17 pm
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Here were go the end of my story as it has been told by my dad (wonder if maybe he knew the trucker dude that found the kitty?)
IF YOU ARE A NEW READER PLEASE GO BACK ON MY DIARY TO PART ONE OF MY STORY THESE ARE THE FINAL CHAPTERS
Well most kitties wanna know what happens next so as you will recall we left Frannie and Little Fellar watching from the window as the ole trucker dude Bill drove away, and then:
It was several weeks later while I was on my old John Deere drillin’ post holes at my farm in New Summerfield and my cell phone went off and as I flipped it open, I saw it was Michelle. "Bill, you need to come on out to mom’s house as soon as you can, and hurry Bill.”
I feared the worst. I knew Francis hadn’t been feelin’ too good and I had a bad feelin’. I climbed down off that tractor and jumped in my pick- up and took off. I pulled into Francis’ drive and it was full of cars. I just sat in my old Ford and prayed. I don’t mind tellin’ you I prayed ‘bout as hard as I ever did. This was the sadness I had felt yesterday.
I made my way through all the cars’n trucks and stood in the foyer all bundled up in my “insulateds” with my old dusty farm hat in my hand. Lotta people here. Some I knew, some I didn’t.
“Bill, come here quickly.” said Alicia from across the room. As I walked toward the bedroom I heard Michelle and doctor Evans arguin’:
“She doesn’t want to go to the hospital , Doc!” Says Michelle.
“She’s dyin’ Michelle.”Said Doc.
“Then she’ll die in her own bed, in the house that daddy built for us, in the house where she raised her two little girls......me and Alicia!”Sobbed Michelle.
I eased into Frannie’s bedroom and there she was all tubed up with machines, IV’s and oxygen. I’d seen all this before with my Cathy. There lying beside her was Little Feller. He stared up at me with his big ole eyes and they held the same kind of sadness I had seen over eighteen years ago, and I knew that he knew. I sat down beside Francis and gently took her hand in my left hand. I layed my right hand on Little Feller just as I had eighteen years before in that old boot box and even with all these people around us, there was just the three of us in our own little world. Just like the old days.
Frannie opened her eyes and whispered: “Bill, I think I got Little Feller about ready for you to take home. I think he’s about healed up now.”
“I’ll hang on to him till you get to feelin’ better Frannie.” Says I.
“I think I’ll be feeling a lot better real soon Bill.”
“Well, we’re right here with you Frannie and we love you.” I said.
I lay my head on her bed and wept.
When I raised my head, there was Little Feller starin’ into her face. She had died and he had felt it. I kissed her on the cheek, picked Little Feller up and slowly started towards Michelle and Alicia. I reckon they knew as soon as they saw me comin’. Alicia ran to her mamma, wrapped her arms around her and sobbed bitterly. Michelle slowly sat down on the couch and just stared out at nothin’. She was plumb wore out and awful tired of bein’ the strong one. I lay Little Feller on the couch and sat down beside Michelle, took her hand in mine and we just sat there real quiet like for a long time. Sometimes that’s enough.
After all of the commotion I gathered up Little Feller’s gear and much to my surprise there was that ol’ boot box. He’d been usin’ it for a bed all these years. It was all taped up and it looked like it had been repaired about twenty times. Maybe once a year for eighteen years. My sweater was still in it. I put everything in the front seat of my pick-up and fired it up with the heater on. I took the sweater out of that old box and went in the house. I wrapped Little Feller up against the cold and we went to the truck. He felt so light and sad. I knew his little heart was broke. I layed him on the seat beside me and he climbed into his box.
I wrapped him up in the sweater again and we went home. It ain’t but about five miles to my house but that was the longest five miles in my life. I watched Frannie’s house in my rear view mirror ‘til I couldn’t see it no more. I layed my hand on Little Feller so’s he’d know he wasn’t alone. Cause I knew that was real important to him now.
Francis had a big funeral. A lot of people there. Everybody asked me about Little Feller. He had been a part of Francis for so long everbody that luved her also luved that little fellar. “Doin’ fine.” I lied. Little Feller wasn’t doin’ fine at all.
I guess it wasn’t no surprise to anyone but Little Feller didn’t last but a little while after we buried Francis. I’d lay that ol’ sweater beside me on the bed at night and he’d curl up and sleep there. I reached over to pick him up one mornin’and his little broken heart had give up durin’ the night. I reckon he just went to sleep and didn’t wake up. I held him in my arms and cried like a little baby all over again. Gittin’ real tired of that. Little sister said he died of some kinda heart problem. “He died of a broken heart”. Michelle said.
I reckon they were both right.
I built Little Feller a casket. It didn’t take much wood, he was so tiny. Folded his boot box up real flat and put it in there with him. Wrapped him up in that ol’ sweater. It may not be exactly legal, but me and the girls snuck out to the cemetary one night and buried Little Feller between Francis and Ernie. I peeled the sod back real careful like, buried Little Feller, and put everything back so’s you couldn’t tell we were ever there. I don’t reckon God ‘ll mind one bit. While we were standin’ there in that cold dark, holdin’ onto each other real quiet like, each of us in our own thoughts I told them this:
“A long time ago I lived in a little town on the gulf coast, a little north of Galveston Bay called Mont Belvieu. I met Jesus in a church there called “Maranatha.” Best church I ever been to. Had a pastor there by the name of Bobbie
Dice. Best preacher I ever knew. A little girl whose old dog had died, ask Pastor Dice if he’d gone to Heaven. Seems that that old dog was about seventeen years old. That little girl was seven. He was like a big brother to her and a big part of her life. Broke her little heart when he died, and she just didn’t understand. Sometimes I don’t reckon I do either. This is what the pastor told her and our congregation:
“I believe that the righteous things that we hold dear on this earth, our God holds dear to his heart in heaven. Yes, I do believe that our beloved pets await us in heaven. They are as important to Him as they are to us. All livin things are created by our Father God. That is the kind of God that we serve. Simply put, He loves us, and He loves our pets because we love them.”
Funny how a little crippled up, orphan cat can touch the hearts of so many people. That little cat was known by lonely, wore out, ol’ truck drivers all over this country and everybody in our little town. He’d be missed. When he died I was right there with him and he knew that I loved him. I think that’s important. Gonna take awhile to get over losin’ Francis and Little Feller. Maybe never will. Leaves a empty feelin’ in my heart.
I know a few things. I know I’ll hold Cathy’s hand in mine again. I know I’ll see Ernie ‘n Francis again and I know I’ll see a little orange “fur ball” flittin’ around in green meadows, chasin’ butterflies he’ll never catch, on four legs, healthy and happy ‘cause that’s the kinda God we serve.
No more fears no more tears.
I reckon I don’t want to talk about this no more.
I need to finish drillin’ them post holes. Startin’ to snow a little. Put my “insulateds” on. “Where’d I put that old hat?”
“Shore is cold today”.......
June 13th 2011 10:05 pm
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This has been a fabulous week here on catster for my fur family. Boo's birthday was last week and we membered Skids it was her bridge aniversary (we also made that Boo's birthday cause we do not really know it)
Then on Saturday Calie was a DDP and Skids got DDP on Sunday! Then yep you guessed it I was a DDP today! Yaaay go me! Thank you for making us feel so loved here on catster! WE have some really great friends.
Mom is going to get thanks out for all of us starting tomorrow.
On top of all that I been tellin a story my dad wrote. If you want to you can check out the ending in my previous diary. Remember if you are just "tuning in" you gotta go back to Part I
July 6th 2011 9:35 pm
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I love love love to lay out on the balcony in the evenings, so today mom let me out there and we all went out cept for moma ivey cause she is still confined. Then after every other kitty went back inside I was still out there, it was late really late so mom came out and I whined to stay out(kinda grumbled that I was not ready to go in) and she insisted so I got up and walked her to the door then when she started in I turned the other way. hehe, she let me say a little longer,she thinks I am just too cute and when she says I love you moemoe, I tell her merrrerowow, really along mouthy meow,dad says I am saying love you too. MOL he speaks cat.
tiny mighty moe out