I have invited you to let me tell you about Tom, my amazing friend of the feline specie. Love for the feline specie comes from the story of Peter Rabbit and Mr. Mcgregor wherein the white tabby is grooming herself by a pool of water. Later I collected insects and rocks growing up to becoming a chemist with a major oil company and later a college chemistry instruc-tor. Moving to other cities, family, etc. I lost contact with that field. Among other things, I have performed as a singer, speaker, museum docent, book recorder, newspaper reader for the blind; worked to establish a lighting business and got a mas-ters degree in radio/tv production and performance. My latest work is writing popular fiction, novels. I will try to entertain with stories about Tom and what I've learned about cats.


This is for all of you who love cats, who live with one, or more,. It is also for those of you who value friendship and enjoy the company of others. I welcome you into my life, about my cat and me. It may be we have other like interests and special loves than cats and friendship, be-cause I like to share, at times, some special insights, or some degree of enlightenment that may spring upon me. So, please join me for a little part of your day.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

The Black Longhair Tom

Today, I recall the Tom my daughter rescued when we first came to Tulsa.  We built a house in a new neighborhood for the benefit of the best schools.  Soon after my six-year old daughter found a cat in
the yard who was friendly.  He was an adult black longhaired feline in good health.  Obviously, he
had been a pet and recognized that this girl had lived with a cat and understood them.  The first thing
she did was feed him, so of course, he stayed.  We soon learned that people already in this area were often transferred in and out of town by large companies.  Unfortunately, they left their pets here to fend for themselves.  At the time we were on the edge of the countryside, and there was a creek full of fish and an open land with a mice population. 

Well, Tom became one of the family, named by Dad, without much imagination.  Tom was a con-tributing member of the household.  We left the garage door up about a foot, so that Tom could come and go at night and get in out of the cold.  When we heard him make an announcement, in  an especially loud voice,  he would drop a large field mouse at the door from the garage into the house.

My mother had also had the benefit of the cat contributor from a female pet who acknowledged special holiday dinners with the gift of a sizable field mouse at the kitchen door.  Her house was also next to the countryside.  My brother, whose pet the cat was still speaks often of "Puss", another truly remarkable name for a pet designated by the parent.  Children should name the pet -- even if everyone has to wait for it.

As for my current Tom, he came from Dallas, such a big city he never learned to catch a mouse, although he has sometimes killed a bird.  However, one couldn't ask for a more loyal live-in friend.