WITH "ONLY" THREE INDOOR KITTENS (I call all cats"kittens"), and Cassandra having passed, I had openings. Out side openings. Don't stop, adopt. Hell, don't even adopt, just sit around and wait, wait for the next stray kitten to come down the pike. And thus did Amy and Pseudo enter my life and heart. Two tiny bright white kittens were running free and clear in the back yard of my neighbors. Neighbor didn't seemed inclined to do anything about it other than complain, so I resolved that, were the opportunity to present itself, I would. Soon said opportunity presented itself. The twins, who I at first had mistaken for a single kitten, getting no help across the street, came to my side of the block, where help, in abundance, awaited them. Soon, they were living wild in my yard. I knew they were home, and would not wander looking again. I named one "Amy", after a friend of mine, and the other "Pseudo", because during the interminable four month period during which my indoor Siamese baby "Shylow was on the hoof, I mistook the white kittens , who was already beginning to show signs of Siamese-ness, for Shylow. That was initially disappointing, but only for a time; it worked itself out fine, after a fashion. Amy and pseudo settled in. They ingratiated themselves to me. Then, no sooner had they done that, then they each brought a litter of four to me, to show off, I reckon, Tiny little things clinging to their mothers, precious. It was like dating a women three dates, then her announcing: "Oh, by the way, I have four kids." Like having it happen not once, but twice. (fool me once, shame on you). But, as they say, I was stuck, i dug in too deep to extricate myself. I had, as they say, been had. Suddenly, faster than you can swing a dead cat and hit anything, I had ten cats. My future was written in stone. They grew up, and the crew dwindled. Attrition, probably two be expected with such a large brood. One of the tiny kittens, one of Pseudo's if I recall, simply vanished. Another I found in my garage, dead, its head bloody, as if being attacked by its own father. Whoever did it will never be welcomed to return, even for a visit. Yet another got hit by a car, on my very quiet side street. People are vicious animals. Of those that survived to adulthood, one, a yellow tabby remindful of indoor Jake, (see previous articles), up an left home, probably weary of living with a gang of spayed females. He, Riley by name, stayed with me two years, and I am convinced that he found a better home. Otherwise he would have returned, where he know he had good food, even if he had to share it with overbearing females. Another, "Lucky", a beautiful silver long hair with bright green eyes, got hit by another vicious American driver at the tender age of about two. Yet another, "Destiny", a beautiful multicolored long haired female who never liked me because her spaying had been difficult, left home when I began feeding two more stray grown males,who I fed because they needed to eat, and because they made, and still make, no trouble for my cat family. They still come around. Here's the upshot: as of now, I have three outdoor cats. Pseudo and Amy, the sisters-mothers, both now about six and a half years old, and Destiny, a precious black striped tabby female, a daughter of Amy. Also, "Diamond:, a precious long haired female, who has in the past month been moved inside to my master bedroom, in which she lives alone, recuperating from a serious illness, the bedroom a sort of hospital, where I feed her steroids while she gets better. The vet made me choose whether to try to save her or to let her go; there are no wrong choices, he said. I knew my responsibilities, as always. I chose wisely, I think: her swollen heart and kidneys might be receding, they have a thirty percent chance said the vet, and, on the steroids, she eats like a vulture, and is regaining weight, fast. One indoor cat, Mandi, one sequestered indoor rehabbing cat, Diamond, and Pseudo, Amy, and Remmi, outside in the garage, plus the two male strays coming and going. I haven't named them yet, but probably soon will. Nor have I taken a look at my bank account recently, being afraid to. I doubt that I'll be going to Europe or anywhere else in the near or cat-life future, but then, I really don't want to anyway, and anyway, I have much more love than money or travel can ever buy.
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