Likes: The sun, mom, fetching, lounging, other cats (even Gabie)
Pet-Peeves: Being brushed, the vaccuum, the vet, when mom would leave
Favorite Toy: a red & green ball that Softy & Cookie abandoned in late 80's but I found and fell in love with (see 2nd pic); milk jug rings
Favorite Nap Spot: in the sun, in boxes, in the linen closet, anywhere comfy
Favorite Food: TUNA; I was never a big eater, but man, could I dig on some tuna
Skills: I would respond to questions, like "who's your mamma," always with an appropriately-pitched response; I was the best fetcher ever. I never grew tired of it.
Arrival Story: I was found with my 2 littermates outside a liquor store on a Sunday, when liquor stores are closed in Indiana. It was also Race Day (I'm from Indianapolis), but anyway, the lady who found us called her co-workers to see us, including my mom, and she had to have me. She knew her Softy was not long for this world, and she wanted her own kitty. She knew I was special. I was only about 5 or 6 weeks old, so I was always incredibly attached to my mom, since she raised from such a young age.
Bio: I was an incredibly loyal kitty, and very sweet. I always got along with the other cats. In fact, I think I'm the only cat that ever got along with Cousin Gabriel. I made the trip from Indiana to Texas and back twice. I've been to Graceland. Once I hid myself so well in a motel room on a roadtrip that my mom couldn't find me at checkout time, so she had to stay in Nashville an extra day. I finally came out from INSIDE THE BOX SPRINGS around 7 pm, after having scared my mom to death. She was bawling, so I had to emerge.
I passed on so young because I did a dumb thing. I always liked to eat plants, probably because I wanted to be a vegetarian like my mom; real plants, fake plants, fiber-optic trees, I dug it all. I ate some flowers which apparently not only poisoned me, but clogged my intestines. I didn't feel well, so I threw up, then hid myself. Here's where the story gets kind of dark. I hid myself so well that nobody found me for over 2 months, by which time it was way too late. They set up a 3-person search party, and my mom had even looked where they eventually found me, so I must have moved around. I was always a good hider. Sometimes my mom wouldn't see me for 36 hours, and she would look everywhere and find me in some new ingenious place, or have to wait until I showed myself because I just hid so well. No, I didn't smell; I just kind of dried up. It was a stupid thing to do, and I'm very sorry. Kitties, DON'T EAT PLANTS.
I sent my mom Radley about a year ago because I thought she was finally ready for a new orangie. She knows that Radley was a gift from me, because she does little things to remind her of me, like making tribble noises, fetching (she's a natural too), and getting on her lap and refusing to sit her butt down. She's very different too: she's chubby, she 's a bit of a bully, and she's less aloof than I was (because I was more precious, duh). All in all, she's a good kitty, and I knew she'd be perfect. I know my mom misses me, but I'll always live on in her heart.
I has been almost two years. Two years, since I ate those plants, hid myself, and passed on. Two years since I left this world and my family behind. Two years since I arrived at the Bridge, made countless new friends, reunited with Softy, and since I had to start over without my mom. I know it's sad that I cut my little life so short and broke my mom's heart. I was entitled to more lives, wasn't I? Not that I ever thought the world owed me anything, but come on, how many lives did Softy get? 50? I know how awful it was for my mom and rest of my family those 2 months I was missing. I know how bittersweet it was when I was found. I know how good Cookie was to her that whole year she was orangie-less. I know how understanding he was when she finally got Radley, and I know how much "understanding" Radley required that first month or so. I knew she was ready for a new orangie, a baby, and I knew she was determined that the right cat would come to her. I think she thought she would be disloyal to me by going out and procuring another cat, so I sent her Radley myself. I know how much it broke her heart again when Radley ran away, so I sent her back, and I told her, "Radley, this is your last feral escapade. Pretty soon you're getting fixed and declawed, so enjoy it, and go home when you get hungry. There are mean neighbors around here who trap un-ear-tipped cats like you, boo, and you're scaring your new mom to death. It was just a year ago that she lost her me." So she came home, thank God. I'm still watching over my family, sending good vibes, praying for Cookie's continued health and well-being. Maybe the purpose of losing a young cat like me is so that you can know that each day with your old guys is a gift. Each day with any loved one is a gift, but they become particularly precious with age. My family is very lucky to have the cats they have. Cookie is still kicking, and still getting cooler and sweeter every day. Oreo and Radley are special because they are custom gifts from Softy and me, respectively, meant for their people. And the ferals now have IndyFeral watching their backs, and an ordinance on their side, so they're about as safe as ferals can really be, which is awesome. Gabie is still Gabie, and I still love him. He has a face only a mother and I could love. Just kidding, but I am the only cat who ever really liked him, and certainly the only one who ever curled up with him. A couple of times mom caught us stealing away to the back bedroom to curl up in an old box of linens together. We were so cute. It was fun to have a fair fight every now and then, too, even though I was half his size. At least he's not a munchkin or geriatric, so I could scrap with him. I really miss my old family, but I have a new, huge one here that's also really great, and Softy's here, so I'm happy. I just want my mom to not be sad. It's OK to miss me (I miss you too), but don't be sad. You've got Radley now to fetch with and to sleep on your feet, you've STILL got the Cookman, and you'll always have a baby at home with Miss Oreo. Love, Simba.