Sweet Dusty

Dusty crying. Becoming our house cat was scary at first. The tv frightened him and he didn't seem to believe he was permitted to do things like sit on the sofa, yet he craved our attention and company; was so lonely outside. But he loved us and trusted us so once he got the idea he could be with us all the time (and that the tv was just a thing to be ignored), he was blissfully happy inside with us.

Dusty was the most loving, cuddlesome kitty I've ever met. That little boy lovedme, lovedme, lovedme with an intensity that never decreased. The first time I ever held him in my lap was outside, when we were starting to adopt him. He acted like little Oliver Twist being given his second bowl of porridge. He didn't seem to realize at first that he was permitted to sit in laps and be loved. It was a huge epiphany for him and he purred louder and longer than anyone I've ever met. Any touch, or look or word, would spark a Dusty love fit. That boy had been love-deprived so long he had such a back-pressure of loving built up in him that at first it came out as slobbery drool, I'd get soaked when I held him. But, fortunately, he got over that.

Dusty loved tummy rubs. 

Dusty, went from living under a bush in the rain, being terribly lonely, to being warm, cuddled, and loved. I've never met a cat with more love in him demanding to be shared.

In counting really good things in this world and this life, loving a Dusty is a good thing, as is being loved by a Dusty.

Dusty and his Buddy. Buddy got his name because he and Dusty lived under a bush by our house. Dusty had a name tag but the other cat didn't so we called him "Buddy" because he was Dusty's buddy. Those two boys loved and cared for each other.

Buddy turned out to be a fine, big cat. He's more reserved than Dusty was, but he's gentle, patient, and if coaxed, can have a nice love fit, just not as spontaneous about it as Dusty.

For a cat who was living outdoors, Buddy is incredibly well-mannered. He's polite and patient, and--the most amazing thing--uses his scratching posts and only his scratching posts; has never scratched the furniture. I wish he could give lessons to the others.

Buddy's new papa and he fell in love right away. Buddy's a big boy and needs big things. This is a small dog basket that Buddy immediately knew was his and adores. Usually Buddy looks very serious, but pets from his papa brings out a melty pussycat look on his face.

Krystal

Krystal used to be our big girl until we got Buddy. Now she looks smaller.

Krystal kitten pics here

Mysha

Sweet Mysha... the day we got her, a frightened confused kitten, we opened the carrier up and the first thing she saw was our big, old Siamese Ember (Ember pics, and Mysha kitten pics, here). Mysha cried "Mama!" and ran over to nuzzle Ember. She was inseparable from Ember from then on, though sometimes Ember would need a break and hide in a high spot. Then Mysha would find me and cry that she couldn't find her Ember until I carried her around and found her. They had nine years together before Ember died. Mysha was heartbroken and I suspect her grief hastened her own end at too early of an age.

Mysha's full sister, Tina. We only had her a year--she'd belonged to a relative. She died only a matter of months after Mysha making us suspect a genetic problem with the girls. It was hard to lose two dear little Siamese too young and so close together.

Tina was scared and neurotic when we got her but was starting to settle in and be really happy. She'd just willingly sat in my lap, purring, for the first time for an extended amount of time a few days before she got sick.

Tasha

Pics of Baby Tasha here

Short Story inspired by Tasha here

 

In Remembrance...   Dusty   unknown- September 19, 2004 approx. 3 years old   Our sweet, loving little boy who lived under a bush until he adopted us, and we him.

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