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.
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