Downhill kitty

Our kitty is looking pretty old. I guess that's because she IS old. After all, Samantha (her real name, but somehow we've never called her that) was Amy's bday gift when she was in 3rd grade. So Amy would have been 9 and that makes Kitty 15. Yikes!

She's been in pretty good health until the past few months, when she's slipped. Her fur is matted and she walks gingerly. Poor old gal. She's been a good kitty really. As good as kitties can be anyways. Not evil like my first cat Bucko.

I got Bucko from the pound in Sioux Falls when I lived there for my first job. Bucko was a boy cat - although I did get him fixed. Regardless he's was always showing off his maleness. Climbing the curtains and leaping into high places. Just plain showing off.

Bucko pretty much hated all people except me. I think it was due to his brief stint in the joint (the pound). I loved him, and Paul tolerated him. He tolerated our kids by staying away from them. Bucko would wait until I bent over in my walk in the closet and he'd run and jump onto my back, launching himself onto the top shelf.

When we lived in Council Bluffs (as newlyweds) one night whilst I was taking a bath, Bucko decided to jump off the back of the toilet onto the top of the shower door frame. Unfortunately (for him - for me it was hilarious) he slipped, fell into the toilet which he flushed with the little legs on the way down. Good thing he didn't get sucked in!

Bucko also liked to bite. He'd lay on my chest while I read a book, rubbing his face on mine. Rub, rub, chomp! And it wasn't a love bite either. Pain!

Kitty has been much more mellow than that. She was a stray for the first few months of her life. We adopted her from the vet clinic where a lady was paying to board her since she'd found the stray that she couldn't keep due to allergies. We saved her life - and it's been a cushy one.

Kitty doesn't like vets. (Nor does she like most people - seems to be a theme with my cats) She chomped on Dr. Brus last time I had her in (5 or 6 years ago). I vowed then that she'd croak before I did that again. Well it's nearly time. For now, she's not in terrible pain and we'll keep babying her.

When Bucko died (he had health issues by age 13) I was such a basket case that I got a migraine and had to stay home from work. Paul buried him under a tree near 12 Mile Lake, while I lay on my bed crying. I think Odie will miss Kitty more than I will - especially since she'll be home alone. The two have had fun chasing each other around. I wish pets lived as long as humans!