Sunday, November 18, 2007


We never had any dogs when I was growing up. My Mom had an incident with a dog that went mad, once, and the neighbors had a little black nasty thing called Corkie that barked incessantly until it turned up shot in the head. It wasn't us! We were away that day on a trip to Mongo. I still cannot stand the sound of a barking dog to this day, because of the stress that ran through our spinal columns from that dog yapping all day and all night long. It's so interesting, but dog owners themselves never seem to notice that their dogs never shut up!

Another bad thing about dogs is that they don't live very long. 6-8 years is a short life span, and what that means is your beloved pet is going to DIE right in the middle of your childhood. Why do people do that to their kids? All they think about is a cute puppy. They don't look much further forward than the beaming faces of their little ones when they bring it home for the first time.

What we had was Cats! Or rather, One cat for our whole lives. Before we kids came along, Mom had been given an old Siamese named Cougar. Here he is:

By all accounts he was very crabby, but he loved my brother Paul! Cougar he lived to a ripe old age and when he died, we got another Siamese just like him. And named him Cougar. I suppose we would have named every cat Cougar through the ages but it just happened that we never had another Siamese after Cougar #2.

Here is Cougar, a mere kitten. He was so mellow. We were taught to pet him so the fur didn't go against the grain; how to brush him and pick him up so his feet were supported. He had lots of respect; in fact in our house you weren't allowed to boot a cat out of a chair just because you wanted to sit in it. You chose another chair or asked the cat if you could join him. You did that by picking him up and putting him on your lap. Cougar was so mellow he'd always share! Of course I am exhibiting none of the proper cat care techniques in this photo. I appear to be giving him quite a mauling.

This was the first day of school. Paul is demonstrating the proper foot-support cat holding technique.

I have no idea where we were headed, but this was our Sunday Best. My little brother Jimmy must have been sooo excited, his hands are clenched in sheer joy. Cougar is getting older and filling out, but Paul still does the holding.

This was a lazy Christmas afternoon, Cougar is taking a nap with a visiting friend. Why, oh WHY are those pictures so askew?

Paul was about 21 in this picture and his lap is still the favorite choice for Cougar. I still think about him. He lived to be almost 20 years of age and I still have a soft spot for Seal Point Siameses.


Joy said...

Awww. This reminds me of Fletcher. Who lived FOREVER and would still probably be alive to this day if Skeeter Jean could have done anything about it. On a side note: Paul looked like Jesus.

Joan said...

I believe I see evidence in the last picture of Paul, that your family did indeed shoot Corkie in the head.
(found you from Bitchie Poo - another funny woman!)