Willow Oak

[Willow Oak]

Cleo came to live with mother and me in a very pregnant state. A friend of my sister had asked that she take Cleopatra off her hands, then mother asked if she could take Cleo, then after the kittens were born and had grown up she felt that she could no longer properly care for them, so they became my responsibility. When I bought Willow Oak Cleo and her crew came to live with me. Of her progeny, one sadly did not survive kittenhood, but the others include one male, Darkly, and the other two are Pinky and Lightly. Darkly and Lightly were given names by my mother. The only way she could tell the two apart when they were wee kittens was that one was darker than the other.

Cleo likes hanging out in the kitchen window right above the sink:


Cleo requires a lot of attention. Her hair gets very tangled. She is a very affectionate kitty despite the fact that she was passed around so. Please tell me why anyone would pass her on to someone else. I don't get it.

I took this shot early one morning just as the sun was rising:


Cleo also like to hang out in the towel closet:


Pinky likes the towel closet also:


Pinky is what one might call a "bee-atch." She does not like the dogs and she does not like other cats. She would rather yell and scream at them, and chase them from her presence. If she had her way she would be the only kitty on the premises. She would also be happy if the dogs all left. She is, however, very attached to her mommy, and she definitely loves her "daddy."

Pinky really is a sweetheart:


Everyday after I arrive home Lightly is among the first to demand my attention. For several years now she anticipates my bedtime and as I am preparing for bed I can hear her on the bed calling out to me, "Come on, daddy! Hurry up, daddy! Come to bed, daddy!" Lightly developed a nasty infection in her tail, which then had to be lopped off:


Darkly is very low-maintenace. He and "Buddy" have become friends. Then again, Darkly gets along well with everybody. Darkly is suave and debonair:


Cleo survived a run-in with the dogs, requiring several days to regain her confidence and composure. I took this shot right after her ordeal:

[chocolatepuppy]

Good heavens, look at the hair on Cleo!!! Have I mentioned Taz is adorable?

[Willow Oak]

Good heavens, look at the hair on Cleo!!! Have I mentioned Taz is adorable?

Err ..., that would be "fur," as in "that's a flea-bitten pack of hounds you have there!"

[gini]

Ha! With all of the kitties you have - I would imagine the correct comment would be.....

LOOK AT THE HAIR ON YOU!!

No home should be without it!!

[Willow Oak]

Ha! With all of the kitties you have - I would imagine the correct comment would be.....

LOOK AT THE HAIR ON YOU!!

No home should be without it!!

I am not -- repeat: not a member of the Men's Hair Club.

[Willow Oak]

Sometimes I can't help myself. Sometimes it is inevitable that I cheat. Long before I had my recent heart attack I had made the decision to improve my eating habits. Several years ago I noticed how tightly my clothes were beginning to fit, so I made the decision to change my eating habits. For me, changing my eating habits simply meant eating smaller portions and drinking water instead of sodas. So I have long since returned to my normal, svelte self. But once in a while I feel the need to cheat.

So it was on a recent trip to town a few years ago. I have always loved Wendy's hamburgers, and on this particular trip to town I just had to have one. I ordered the single combo with cheese, dressed, with bacon. I also love their chili seasoning, so I always order it and pour it over the inside of the burger. I sat in the dining room and enjoyed the delicious spicy flavor of the chili seasoning, which mingled with the salty combination of the bacon and the mayonaise and ketchup and mustard with which I also like to baptize my burgers. I had their fries, also baptized in ketchup and mustard and chili seasoning. I was a good boy in one respect -- I drank water.

I returned to my truck to continue my errands, and as I passed through the doorway of the truck to be seated I heard a faint squeak. Weird sound it was, so I stepped out and quickly back in, and I heard it again. It was a very faint and faraway squeak. It sounded like a kitten, but I couldn't be sure. Anyway, you know I was going to check it out, so I stepped back outside the truck, walked around the parking lot, looked under the truck, looked in the truck -- everywhere, but I simply did not see a kitten anywhere. So I re-seated myself in my truck and drove off.

Groceries were next on the agenda, so I drove to Roger's Supermarket. I did my shopping and returned to my truck to load the groceries. If I am in my truck I always load the groceries into the passenger seat, so after having opened the passenger-side door I proceeded to grab a bag and place it onto the seat. And each time I passed the door opening I heard that squeak. Puzzling it was! I continued to load the groceries, and I continued to hear the squeak! Once again I studied the parking lot, looked underneath the truck, checked inside and outside the truck -- everywhere, yet I could see no kitten! This was a puzzle!

Anyways, it was time to get home so I seated myself and drove toward home. Before going home, though, I saw that I needed gas so I pulled into a station to fill up. I exited the truck, swiped my card, and begin to pump. I a by nature a very lazy person, so instead of standing there and holding the pump I wedged the gas cap into place and let go of the pump and walk around a bit. It then occurred to me to check the oil, so I popped the hood to have a look. I found the dipstick, pulled it out and immediately heard the squeak. I remained very still for a few seconds and listened. No sound, but the moment I moved I heard the squeak again! There was no mistaking it this time. The sound most definitely belonged to a kitten, but where? So I slid the dipstick back into place and began another investigation. I checked the parking lot; I crawled beneath the truck, I looked under the seats, I looked everywhere. No kitten!

I was very frustrated, but what could I do? Maybe I was hearing things. How could there be a kitten? I had just driven all over town and had heard the squeak everywhere I stopped. I had done a very thorough and exhaustive search of the premises and the truck, yet had not turned up a thing -- I must be hearing things. I quickly finished gassing up, hopped in the truck, and drove home.

At home I unloaded the groceries then deposited myself in my favorite chair in front of the television. Within a few minutes the dogs started up. They were really making a racket! So I went outside to see what was the fuss. They were all congregated at the fence barking in the general direction of my truck. I went to where they were, "What are you guys making such a fuss about? " When I said that they really cut loose then. "Hesh up now! Stop all that racket! Who you guys think you are! Stop that! " They dutifully obeyed -- all except for Lu Lu, who continually keeps up a racket all the time anyway. I took a look in the direction of the truck, and..., I could her something. Something very faint. I exited the fence and walked over, and ..., yes, I could definitely hear it now! Somewhere within the confines of that truck was a kitten ..., somewhere, but where?

So I retrieved my flashlight, and began the search again. Once again I checked beneath the truck, crawling around on my back in the gravel of my driveway. I looked behind and under the seat, and under the dashboard. I looked under the hood. I crawled up into the engine well for a closer inspection. I looked everywhere, and all that time I continued to hear a very faint and very distant sound, the very distinct mewing of a kitten. But for all the energy I expended in my search I simply could not locate the little creature. I was at my wits end. So I decided to shut the hood, but before I did I moved to the side to remove some debris that had gathered underneath one of the springs, and as I did that I caught a glimpse into the wheel well on the passenger side. And there in the wheel well, just out of the reach of the massive tire on that side of the truck, crouched ever so precipitously on the edge of the well I saw it. A very tiny, very scared, very frail, puffy, squeaky ball of fur.

The footnote to this story is that I delivered this little guy to the shelter. I simply had too many cats and I could not continue to collect. It was a most difficult decision, a decision that I have questioned many times. It breaks my heart to this day to recall the look on that little guy's face -- that frail, scared, little face.

But you simply cannot keep them all.

[Willow Oak]

Taz and Thumper under the Willow Oak.