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Cats
I have always loved cats. Being raised on a farm in Saskatchewan meant there were always cats of all description in the barn. But there was always a special one that was a house cat and that special one was my cat. There have been many over the years, many that died from old age or tragically by accident. I remember Snowball, a totally white kitten that I had to bury in a shoebox because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time when a neighbour drove into the yard. Then there was Smokey who mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again. How I missed her and all the little babies she had. I will never forget Sylvester who went wherever I went, summer and winter. If that tree is still standing, which I doubt, our initials should still be high up on the trunk. I mustn't forget Dagwood, my grandparents cat who lived well into old age, producing many a litter. Then there were the Siamese that I fell in love with, Captain Morgan and Toffee, who lived to the grand age of 21 years. The many Siamese/tabby mix cats: Sootees who was a kindred spirit but fell foul to an accident with the combine, Little Sister, Missy White Toes and Mojo.
The love of my life is a blue point RagDoll named Smokee that friends gave to me.
He is a total delight and friend. His brother the Bandit, a seal point RagDoll, lives upstairs with another cat friend, Winston.
Smokee and the Bandit have provided us with many laughs over the years. LIke the time they first wore their little caps. If looks could have killed, we would have been dead!
Smokee sometimes gets confused...he thinks he is a dog. Loves the leash and fetches like no dog I ever had.
http://www.dlc.fi/~ashi/ragdolls
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