Whiskers (more than likely to be contd.)

Here is an interesting synchronicity.   This is a picture of me approximately 10 years old.   My sister found some old family photos and sent them to me.   To my amazement there were several of me with a cat named Whiskers.   I remember him fondly.   He was my first cat.   I was struck that he was in the pictures, it was proof of our bond.    I could  never forget him.   When I was young vet care was not as available as it is now.   My parents would never have considered neutering a male cat.   My memory is foggy but I probably didn't have Whiskers with me much longer than it took him to reach sexual maturity.   He started roaming and eventually was hit by a car and killed.   He was incredibly special and for a time we were constant companions.  I remember my parents didn't  tell me when he died.   They waited until I asked about him before they told about his demise.   It felt like a major betrayal.   I know in their effort to shield me from life's realities they thought they were protecting me.   It felt so incomplete..... there was no body to see, no grave, nothing.   He was gone.   In the pictures I am reminded of the unconditional love I experienced with him.

So here is the synchronicity.   If you read my post "each his own" my distress is not really surprising.   The wandering Tom that was NOT the neighbors cat albeit they named him and fed him for a year had been named Whiskers.   No wonder this situation with the neighbor struck me to the core.   This may sound strange to some who is not an animal lover or cat person.    I've always had a strong attraction to cats and remember chasing wild farm cats at my grand parents farm.   I amazed the adults in being able to catch them.   I was one determined little kid and I loved taming them.   Whiskers, however, was the first to come live with me.  I still feel tender thinking about it.

As for my grandparents cats on the farm there isn't such a happy ending.   I remember asking my mother what happened to the barn kittens when they were no longer around.   I was told my grandfather put them in a burlap sack weighted with a rock and drowned them.   It isn't surprising now is it that I want to rescue cats in trouble.   No doubt about it I could be living more comfortably if I didn't spend so much money on caring for the animals.   I always have felt the love from the animal kingdom is such that they give me more than I give them.   I guess it is mutual and cats seem to know that.