Story time kids, gather 'round.

Ahhh, these two. If you're a cat person you know that you can go through a lot of cats in a short time, especially when you live out in the country. In the past two years I lost one I had for years and years and years to a coyote attack.

So I went out and got a small kitten, who grew well with all the fighting and such, turning into a big Tom cat. But too much of one really, he was terrorizing the neighborhood pretty much. So one day, at my brother's apartments, I saw two kittens roaming around that, after many days of coaxing and just watching, I almost had.

The neighborhood-ly "Cat lady" told me the day I was looking for them that the pound had come by to run its usual sweep, and probably picked them up. I live in a small city, small county, so it wasn't that hard for the receptionist to figure out what I was talking about, and showed me the kittens. I got the two I wanted in due time, a cute little white and black one with pink ears, and a soulful little silvery black one with huge eyes.

They were small, too small to be away from mother because they had trouble even accepting the soft kitten food. But, after a lot of coaxing and nursing, they grew. And while the white and black one grew and was happy, the smaller black one didn't. He was always weak and frail and when he jumped from a ledge he would hit the floor like a rock. So I carried him with me everywhere, always keeping him warm and fed. The vet said, after many vague visits, that he could have either had a problem with his liver filtering sugar for energy, or a tumor. Either one required expensive surgery to even check for, something that I couldn't dream of affording, so, slowly but surely, the black and white one was loosing his brother. He would lay with him even when the little one couldn't even stand up. Lick him off when the honey I was feeding him would mat his fur, and pretty much became watch-cat.

The night I came home from the vet's office without a cat, the black and white one knew something was wrong. He wasn't as playful, stopped eating his foot, just laid on the warm internet router that the little black one did, and watch the days go by...

I was worried for him, so went out to look for another cat. The Tom that was still around was abusive and didnt like other kitties, and soon was never seen again. Now that the poor, formerly playful kitten was alone, he needed a companion. So, after alot of memory searching, I found one that I brought home to him, hoping to make him happy. He had been the one I wanted all alone, and making him happy was main priority.

Veru and Isil, sitting together in the light of my kitty-comfortable kitchen.

Kittens and photo taken by me