TOBY

Toby Alexander Norris

Precious beautifully handsome,

Emerald eyes, shiny ebony coat

With a snowy undercoat

Showing a small white patch under his chin.

Lovable, loving, craves petting

Sleeping on or near his favorite people.

Came to our home as an older adult,

To be a companion for an older woman

And gentleman, who said”no,” but

Now Toby gravitates to and loves his petting.

I’m the woman and love Toby deeply,

Love to see his sweet sleeping form on my

Bed or floor…love to see him eating cat chow or

TREATS, his favorite snack…it’s difficult

To give him only one at a time!!!

I even love to see and hear you lapping water.

Toby…Toby…Toby…

You’re so dear to so many.

Theresa, who shares you with us,

She couldn’t bear to leave you alone after TIGER went to kitty Heaven.

Thank you, Theresa.

Thank you for watching him while we are away,

And giving him back when we come home.

That must be the most difficult thing to do.

You’re so kind and thoughtful!

Toby…Toby…Toby…

Words can ‘t express how much you mean to me.

I’ve loved other cats before you,

But none can compare

To YOU.

Toby Alexander Norris

Mr. Silky

Peanut

Kitty Love of My Life!

Theresa Alexander, my friend/daughter gave me a CAT Scrap book where I keep my cat photos and poems.

In 1943 or so, my earliest memory of loving cats began. One spring morning, Mother and I discovered a mother cat and litter of about five kittens on the stones laid for the side porch that Daddy was building onto our house. The chilly morning temperature didn’t suit the wee kitties.

The next day, when we went out to feed them, we found the kittens dead. My heart turned as cold as the stones. I cried and cried. Nothing could console me for a long time.

Now, after many years, my heart still yearns for all the kitties that have come and gone through my life. Below are a few of them.

Miss Kitty:

Miss Kitty Look-A-Like

Photo by TheDailyFairy on Pexels.com

Stray adult cat being bullied by a dog beside the front steps of my house in St. Petersburg, Virginia. After chasing the dog away, and gingerly carrying her into the house, I coddled and cared for her.

I didn’t expect her to live. That’s why she’s named Miss Kitty, and has no real name.

She lived and thrived!. When I went to Australia, Mickie Meyer took her to Monroe, North Carolina to give her to an aunt. She did well, Mickie told me later. Sadly, I never saw her again.

Yang-tze and Lili-i-po

Yang-tze

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Lili-ipo

Photo by Leah Kelley on Pexels.com

Two Siamese kittens my ex-husband gave me for my birthday while we were living with my parents in Windber, after we left Sydney, Australia,

The cats moved with us to Miami for two years, then to a Martinsville apartment on Mulberry Road for another five, then to a house (forgot the name of the street,) outside of Martinsville, then to Madison after Gene left us. We went back to Windber for a few months, moved to LaVale, Maryland with Cousin Carol Clulee, and gave them to a neighbor of hers for I got an apartment in Cumberland that didn’t allow pets.

Those therapy cats saw me through many tears and sleepless nights. I have much anguish for everything they endured while my turmoil of loosing a husband, a job, soon a mother. They say God doesn’t let you have more than you can endure. But man, it surely felt like it at the time.

Many years later, after some alone time passed. I found my present wonderful husband, my heart and life felt ready to share with another cat, two other cats. My dear friend, Theresa, took me to a kitty shelter.

We walked in.

She said,”Sit down over her and see who comes to us.” We sat there only a few minutes. Cats came and went. Then, Pumpkin and Coo sauntered up to us. Coo hopped up in my lap. Later I said, “Make a lap, Coo is there.” Pumpkin remained a bit aloof, but hung around. They acted like they belonged together, and to me.

Theresa said,

These two we’ll take!”

And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

COO AND PUMPKIN

Coo and Pumpkin Ready For Sleep!

Pumpkin, sixteen pounds of solid muscle, seemed laid-back and catered to Coo in most ways. Their age, eight human years, when we adopted them.

My lap-cat Coo, developed a heart problem, died when he was twelve. I fell apart, and wrote a poem just for him. It’s on a separate post called COO with my favorite picture of him, in his memory. Pumpkin has his own post.


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