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kayc

Memories of Kitty

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Kitty was born in a trailer court in Portland, near as we could piece together with what the trailer court manager told us, in 1994.  Back then she was called Mama Kitty because she populated the whole trailer court.  Drug addicts would adopt and then abandon her, either when she was replaced with her cute little kittens or when they moved out.  She learned to be loud and demanding as a way of getting her needs met.  A “tree dweller” she liked high places, often getting up on top of the trailers.  Her life was hard.

Kitty Xmas 2014.JPG

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A beautiful cat, my brother and sister in law had a cat that looked very much like her. She lived a long life 20 yrs like my Dixie. Kitty sounds like she was one tough cat. Im so sorry for your loss.

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Before she came to my house, she lived with my now-ex and I’d visit on weekends.  He had his Harley right outside his trailer and she loved sitting on it, sometimes using it as a perch with which to jump to the nearest tree and hence the top of the trailer.  I bought her a green and pink towel that said “Princess” on it.  It kind of wrecked John’s image as a biker, but he tolerated it, after all, it was for Kitty.

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John was getting ready to dump both of us.  He moved his trailer to my place, removed the flooring, cabinets, appliances, and dumped it, leaving to who knows where.  He later told me he’d gone back to the trailer court and saw Kitty sitting all forlorn in the trailer space, all alone.  He picked her up and drove her the 3 ½ hours to my place, the last time I’d see him before divorcing him, Kitty’s only time in a car.  She yowled loudly the entire drive.  I’d known Kitty for about 2-3 years by that time and he abandoned both of us.  It was me, her, Miss Mocha, and Lucky.  Miss Mocha was a beautiful cat that showed up at my house one day.  Her and Kitty agreed to a truce.  Lucky was a sweet well-trained Whippet and Kitty showed her what was what.  Lucky was appropriately scared of her.  After Lucky passed in 2008, I adopted Arlie, a huge Husky/Golden Retriever.

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Kitty refused to come in the house for 1 2/3 years, preferring to live out on the 30’ covered back patio.  She had a “cat house”  to get protection from the wind, a porch swing to lay on, a “cat tree” in the form of a tall mailbox to sit up on and watch the world below.

There were neighborhood bully cats that would try to steal her food and beat up on her in the process so I devised a box she could go into to eat and I’d close it while she was eating so she could do so in peace, letting her out when she was done.  Finally Kitty decided she’d rather take on “the dog” than deal with the neighborhood bully cats.  She let him know what was what and he jumped to…I literally saw him go all the way around the house to avoid walking in front of her.

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But I get ahead of myself…one day not too long after I acquired custody of her, she went missing.  I looked for her, called her, to no avail.  Five days later my son was outside and her a bare croaking meow and spotted her high up in a tree.  He drove his big truck over and parked it under the tree, standing on top of the cab (which put a dent in it) he barely reached her, scratching and clawing him all the way down!

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A couple days later she went missing again, this time he discovered her up the tree further.  There was no way he could reach her and contrary to what t.v. shows, firemen do not rescue cats.  He was top marksman in the Air Force so he decided to shoot the branch off the tree.  I knew he wouldn’t hit her, but I was afraid of her landing…the branch drifted down back and forth, in slow motion, much like in a cartoon, and she landed perfectly unhurt.  She never climbed a tree again though!

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