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, October 29, 2015

Compliant, Even Obedient Tom

I have good news about Tom, the most understanding and intelligent cat pet I have known.
While he has settled himself on the bolster pillows on my bed -- when my back was turned -- he has also been obedient when I tell him he need not be on the pillows.  He has even deigned to arise
and jump off the bed. 

He has also enjoyed jumping into my lay and crossing  over into the twin chair on my left side.
I am most often in my TV watching chair when he decides to join me.  However, he soon curls up
or stretches out inn the chair and goes off to sleep.  Well, the term cat nap does certainly apply.  Cats do often sleep with one eye slightly open to observe all that goes on.  He watches my comings and
goings from the chair.  But sometimes I find him fast asleep and wake him when it is time for him
to go out for the night.  Lately, he has been quite cooperative, and with or without a little push,
moves to the door and exits willingly.  I am thankful for his attitude change. 

He is regaining his voice, too, and expressing appreciation when I open the door to let him in. 
He has his little sounds of "thank you" as he enters the house and then high tails it off toward the garage door to make sure  I turn off the yard light.  He prefers to do this even before he settles over his breakfast kibble. 

Thursday, October 22, 2015

What happened, Tom?

Ten days ago Tom produced a cough that came from deep inside him by the loud, barking sound of it.
I thought vomiting would follow the heaving of his stomach and put him out the nearest door. Over
several days the same thing happened, but he managed to swallow and conquer whatever made him produce such an upheaval in sound -- beyond an ordinary cough which might have been due to a
hair ball.  Thank heaven he never did throw up anything.

Then the malady subsided.   I heard no more coughing.  Then a couple of days ago, he meowed a
small kitten like comment followed by more attempts to voice his message.  Weak, cracking vocalized feline language.

I've tried to figure out what happened.  He ate without difficulty his full meals, as usual.  But I hadn't heard him speak, I recalled.  At last, I concluded he had eaten, or swallowed, something that got in the way of his voice which had to dissolve out of his way.  I must think like a cat.  At least, that's my analysis.  Perhaps, a rat's tail?I

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Tomcats Lose

Tomcats, even the aggressive kind, sometimes lose the fight.  Here is what happened to my first Tom, the light yellow cat, unaltered.  He was a fighter who came home after two weeks awol with battle scars, marching triumphantly up the drive "mrowing" in cadence with his steps.  Remember, this Tom was my first pet, so I was between 6 and 10 years old.  We had left the house on a summer evening while it was still sunny.  There were crawdad holes in the yard, the inch and a half in diameter hole with the muddy diggings piled up on the ground.

When we arrived home, our neighbor came over with the news.  He had rescued Tom after hearing him set up a mighty howling.  He followed the noise and there was Tom with the crawdad from the hole clamped to Tom's upper lip.  Tom was known to paw down into things he couldn't see, and, perhaps, he had brought up the crustacean who fought back and pinched Tom as he tried to bite his catch. 

Tom never again caught a crawdad.  If you eat them, you may call them crayfish.  If in a muddy hole in the ground, they are just crawdads.  Cats are smart.  They learn more than it is acknowledged by those who don't understand them.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

King of the Cats

Tom is here with me right now.  He always knows when I begin work on the computer and under-stands that I cannot accomplish anything at all without his presence.  He is usually right on the desktop with me, but at this moment is on the floor at my feet.

I have a little story about why Tom is king of the cats.  Once upon a time a a man sat by the fireplace in his cabin watching the fire die to embers.  He relaxed in the warm darkness half asleep with his faithful cat in his lap.  As the last red ember fades out, his cat leapt off his lap and announced,
"I am King of the Cats.

Tom is his successor, announcing his presence, giving his orders, checking out the land in the morning, surveying the wildlife through the windows, and sharing his affection with me as his mistress.   I also add this.  He is the greatest appreciator of luxury he could be.  He is fair to the utmost about the luxuries of this domain.  He makes sure he gives his full attention to every piece of furniture that exists in this house.