Saturday, July 11, 2015
Where are you my Little Man?
He always sort of did his own thing, I'd find him in a window or in random places, but I never made a point to make sure I saw him everyday. And I should have. Maybe he'd still be here if I had. He showed no signs of sick, though I do know they have ear mites. I feel so horrible. I should have made sure they were all ok, every single day. I have four cats. I started the year with six. I could understand if he were old or sick, but he was neither. I keep crying. Should I have called somebody?
We were living on City View when Jake and I saw some people standing in the neighbor's driveway looking under a tree. We went over there and they were looking at adorable kittens that had been born to a stray. We tried feeding them, but they were skittish though it seemed like their Mom didn't want them. Eventually Jake "caught" one of the kittens and brought him in. He chased Brutus and Roman around and we toyed with naming him Little Terrorist. The neighbor had called him Pumpkin, but we ended up with Little Man or Littles.
He was a very strange cat, orange with a white chest and that part was so soft. He never learned how to use his claws very well and was constantly getting them stuck into things and I'd have to unstick them. He had the most unique call, he would trill late at night. I always meant to get it on video. He peed on me more times than I can count, especially a few times when I was using the bathroom. I assumed it was his way of telling me he loved me. When he was hungry, he would pull pieces of my hair out of my ponytail and chew on them, that meant feed me!
He would stand on my chest to pluff me, that's what we call kneading, and he would drool, it was adorable. I miss him so much and it's only been a few days. I feel like a dagger has been stabbed deep into my heart and I don't know how the wound will ever heal.