First there was Shiraz, a beautiful white Persian whose curiosity drew him to explore the peak of the drapes and discarded paper bags. But with his refined pedigree came a delicate constitution. Shiraz was prone to digestive and urinary problems, and within a year he succumbed to a urinary blockage. No more purebloods for us.
Our next stop was the mall pet store where we picked out a kitten with unique striping. At home she was highly active, jumping from chair to sofa and scrambling onto the table and sink. She bit and clawed and mock-fought us to the point where no one could touch her without injury. Whether from her disposition or conditioning, we didn’t care for her aggressive personality and returned her to the store.
A year later we adopted a stray. She was good-natured and affectionate, and we planned to spay her when she reached a year old. Shortly before her first birthday she surprised us with a litter of five. Disappointed and yet excited, we found homes for all but one of the babies and scheduled a spay for “Tiger Lilly.” Late on surgery day the vet’s assistant called to say Tiger did not handle the anesthesia well.
“We’ll try to save her, but she’s filled with fluid.”
Poor Tiger died the next morning. As our eight-year-old daughter mourned, we agreed to keep “Josie,” the remaining tri-colored female. But when our sheltie began to bark and tease the kitten, Josie fled under the deck. Two days later she disappeared.
Providentially, Steven’s friend who had taken one of Tiger’s male kittens brought him back when it scratched his brother. “Timmy” settled right in, and since neutering, sticks close to home. These days Timmy and Shadow make an odd couple. Timmy has become the alpha male, but he tolerates the good ol’ boy. Both are dear to their owners—Shadow for Steve, and Timmy for Beth.