Miss Kitty came into my life at 2316 Fort Rice Street, Petersburg, Virginia one Sunday afternoon. I busily washed dishes in the kitchen at the back of our small 3 bed/1 1/2 bath one story house.
Sounds of a cat screaming and a dog barking came from the front. Racing out to the front, I discovered a frightened multi-colored kitty cowered against the stone steps with a dog barking it’s head off at the cat.
Shooing the dog away, I scoped up the cat and carried her into the house. She didn’t seem injured, but she her limp told me something wasn’t as it should be.
I bought some cat food and made a bed from old rags and towels in a box. I named her Miss Kitty, for we weren’t sure if she would live through the night. Cats must have nine lives,for she did, and I adopted my first cat. Her name remained, it seemed to fit her. A character on the TV show “Gunsmoke” was named Miss Kitty. The name stuck.
The year was 1968, I think, so it’s difficult to remember if we saw a veterinarian, or if one even existed then. Miss Kitty got along just fine, she came to life living in a nurturing environment with two doting female human attendants.
Oh, and, a small white Siamese kitten named Brandi. This small beauty, given to me by Phyllis Maxwell, the principal at an elementary school near Brandon Plantation on the James River, overtook the household. She clawed the sheer curtains Mother made for me. She wildly ran through house. Mickie and I couldn’t seem to control her. She controlled us.
Mickie Chaney, a second grade teacher, at one of the other schools where I taught band instruments, came to live with me after my husband left. We decided amicably, to separate. He moved out, so I needed someone to help with expenses. Mickie filled that bill beautifully.
We became friends instantly. And we remain friends to this day, even after years and miles of separation. More about Mickie in another post.
This one’s about cats.