Much love and gratitude to NANCY MURRAY for sponsoring Mac's Memorial!
Mac's Four Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister
To visit Whitey's page, click HERE.
To visit Murray's page, click HERE.
To visit Butch's page, click HERE
To visit Earl's page, click HERE.
To visit Samantha's page, click HERE.
The first time I saw Mac, I tried to shoo him away from our porch. He was dirty and scrawny, with matted long hair, and he looked horrible.
My children, Laura and Robbie, however, wanted to keep him, even though we already had both a cat and a dog. Whitey the Cat had come to us as a stray, also, almost a year before Robbie was born and a few months before Laura was born, so they had never been without a pet, and Whitey was now an "old man" of 14.
Murray, our little white Westie, was bought when Robbie was 7, as he kept begging for a puppy. Murray was now 6.
I gave in a bit to their request, by putting out food and water on the porch, but I wasn't about to let such a dirty little animal come into our house. It was June, and I knew Mac would do fine as an outdoor cat.
Within only a couple of weeks, Mac filled out and began washing and grooming himself. Soon, he was quite a handsome little guy. The few encounters he had with Whitey and Murray were peaceful; Mac seemed to respect their ages and their positions in the house, and completely deferred to them, even though he soon grew to be bigger than either of them.
With September came some rains, and I allowed the kids to make a bed for Mac in our garage. Neither Whitey nor Murray
seemed to object, even though they passed right through the pet door into the garage on their way to the fenced back yard. Since Whitey had also come to us as a stray, we had never bothered to furnish a litter box; both he and Mac were quite used to using the great outdoors.
The cold weather in October broke my last reservations, and Mac was allowed to be a house cat at last. He continued to defer to both Whitey and Murray, and there was never a problem between them.
Soon, in fact, Mac and Murray forged a strong friendship, as they were both still young and playful. Whitey Cat, being now 15, mostly preferred to sleep most of the day, preferably on somebody's lap. But Mac and Murray would romp and play for most of the day. Mac would chase Murray into the kitchen, and then they would do an about-face, and Murray would chase Mac back into the living room. Then they would pretend to fight and would roll over and over together on the floor, in mock combat. Neither actually ever hurt the other one. They were a joy to watch, and always made me laugh.
Whitey died at the venerable age of 16 and 1/2, and Mac then took over as King of the Castle, continuing his close friendship with Murray, though both obviously missed Whitey.
One cold January day in 2000, I came home from shopping and saw Mac lying under the bushes in our front yard. I went to him to pick him up and take him into the house, but when I touched him, he was cold and stiff. My wails brought Robbie and his friend Andy running from the house. We could not find a mark on Mac, and we finally concluded that he must have licked some of the antifreeze that had spilled onto the driveway from my husband's antique car.
We sadly buried Mac in our back yard, right next to Whitey. They are underneath one of their favorite trees.
Murray, of course, was prostrate with grief and missed Mac so much that Robbie, Andy, and I went to the Animal Shelter a few days later and found Samantha, the beautiful calico cat that we still have. Samantha is now more than 17 years old.
To see a love story between Samantha the Calico Cat and Cheyenne, our baby granddaughter, visit their page: Love Story.
Mac's Four Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister
To visit Whitey's page, click HERE.
To visit Murray's page, click HERE.
To visit Butch's page, click HERE
To visit Earl's page, click HERE.
To visit Samantha's page, click HERE.
The first time I saw Mac, I tried to shoo him away from our porch. He was dirty and scrawny, with matted long hair, and he looked horrible.
My children, Laura and Robbie, however, wanted to keep him, even though we already had both a cat and a dog. Whitey the Cat had come to us as a stray, also, almost a year before Robbie was born and a few months before Laura was born, so they had never been without a pet, and Whitey was now an "old man" of 14.
Murray, our little white Westie, was bought when Robbie was 7, as he kept begging for a puppy. Murray was now 6.
I gave in a bit to their request, by putting out food and water on the porch, but I wasn't about to let such a dirty little animal come into our house. It was June, and I knew Mac would do fine as an outdoor cat.
Within only a couple of weeks, Mac filled out and began washing and grooming himself. Soon, he was quite a handsome little guy. The few encounters he had with Whitey and Murray were peaceful; Mac seemed to respect their ages and their positions in the house, and completely deferred to them, even though he soon grew to be bigger than either of them.
With September came some rains, and I allowed the kids to make a bed for Mac in our garage. Neither Whitey nor Murray
seemed to object, even though they passed right through the pet door into the garage on their way to the fenced back yard. Since Whitey had also come to us as a stray, we had never bothered to furnish a litter box; both he and Mac were quite used to using the great outdoors.
The cold weather in October broke my last reservations, and Mac was allowed to be a house cat at last. He continued to defer to both Whitey and Murray, and there was never a problem between them.
Soon, in fact, Mac and Murray forged a strong friendship, as they were both still young and playful. Whitey Cat, being now 15, mostly preferred to sleep most of the day, preferably on somebody's lap. But Mac and Murray would romp and play for most of the day. Mac would chase Murray into the kitchen, and then they would do an about-face, and Murray would chase Mac back into the living room. Then they would pretend to fight and would roll over and over together on the floor, in mock combat. Neither actually ever hurt the other one. They were a joy to watch, and always made me laugh.
Whitey died at the venerable age of 16 and 1/2, and Mac then took over as King of the Castle, continuing his close friendship with Murray, though both obviously missed Whitey.
One cold January day in 2000, I came home from shopping and saw Mac lying under the bushes in our front yard. I went to him to pick him up and take him into the house, but when I touched him, he was cold and stiff. My wails brought Robbie and his friend Andy running from the house. We could not find a mark on Mac, and we finally concluded that he must have licked some of the antifreeze that had spilled onto the driveway from my husband's antique car.
We sadly buried Mac in our back yard, right next to Whitey. They are underneath one of their favorite trees.
Murray, of course, was prostrate with grief and missed Mac so much that Robbie, Andy, and I went to the Animal Shelter a few days later and found Samantha, the beautiful calico cat that we still have. Samantha is now more than 17 years old.
To see a love story between Samantha the Calico Cat and Cheyenne, our baby granddaughter, visit their page: Love Story.
Much love and gratitude to NANCY MURRAY for sponsoring Mac's Memorial!
Mac's Four Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister
To visit Whitey's page, click HERE.
To visit Murray's page, click HERE.
To visit Butch's page, click HERE
To visit Earl's page, click HERE.
To visit Samantha's page, click HERE.
The first time I saw Mac, I tried to shoo him away from our porch. He was dirty and scrawny, with matted long hair, and he looked horrible.
My children, Laura and Robbie, however, wanted to keep him, even though we already had both a cat and a dog. Whitey the Cat had come to us as a stray, also, almost a year before Robbie was born and a few months before Laura was born, so they had never been without a pet, and Whitey was now an "old man" of 14.
Murray, our little white Westie, was bought when Robbie was 7, as he kept begging for a puppy. Murray was now 6.
I gave in a bit to their request, by putting out food and water on the porch, but I wasn't about to let such a dirty little animal come into our house. It was June, and I knew Mac would do fine as an outdoor cat.
Within only a couple of weeks, Mac filled out and began washing and grooming himself. Soon, he was quite a handsome little guy. The few encounters he had with Whitey and Murray were peaceful; Mac seemed to respect their ages and their positions in the house, and completely deferred to them, even though he soon grew to be bigger than either of them.
With September came some rains, and I allowed the kids to make a bed for Mac in our garage. Neither Whitey nor Murray
seemed to object, even though they passed right through the pet door into the garage on their way to the fenced back yard. Since Whitey had also come to us as a stray, we had never bothered to furnish a litter box; both he and Mac were quite used to using the great outdoors.
The cold weather in October broke my last reservations, and Mac was allowed to be a house cat at last. He continued to defer to both Whitey and Murray, and there was never a problem between them.
Soon, in fact, Mac and Murray forged a strong friendship, as they were both still young and playful. Whitey Cat, being now 15, mostly preferred to sleep most of the day, preferably on somebody's lap. But Mac and Murray would romp and play for most of the day. Mac would chase Murray into the kitchen, and then they would do an about-face, and Murray would chase Mac back into the living room. Then they would pretend to fight and would roll over and over together on the floor, in mock combat. Neither actually ever hurt the other one. They were a joy to watch, and always made me laugh.
Whitey died at the venerable age of 16 and 1/2, and Mac then took over as King of the Castle, continuing his close friendship with Murray, though both obviously missed Whitey.
One cold January day in 2000, I came home from shopping and saw Mac lying under the bushes in our front yard. I went to him to pick him up and take him into the house, but when I touched him, he was cold and stiff. My wails brought Robbie and his friend Andy running from the house. We could not find a mark on Mac, and we finally concluded that he must have licked some of the antifreeze that had spilled onto the driveway from my husband's antique car.
We sadly buried Mac in our back yard, right next to Whitey. They are underneath one of their favorite trees.
Murray, of course, was prostrate with grief and missed Mac so much that Robbie, Andy, and I went to the Animal Shelter a few days later and found Samantha, the beautiful calico cat that we still have. Samantha is now more than 17 years old.
To see a love story between Samantha the Calico Cat and Cheyenne, our baby granddaughter, visit their page: Love Story.
Mac's Four Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister
To visit Whitey's page, click HERE.
To visit Murray's page, click HERE.
To visit Butch's page, click HERE
To visit Earl's page, click HERE.
To visit Samantha's page, click HERE.
The first time I saw Mac, I tried to shoo him away from our porch. He was dirty and scrawny, with matted long hair, and he looked horrible.
My children, Laura and Robbie, however, wanted to keep him, even though we already had both a cat and a dog. Whitey the Cat had come to us as a stray, also, almost a year before Robbie was born and a few months before Laura was born, so they had never been without a pet, and Whitey was now an "old man" of 14.
Murray, our little white Westie, was bought when Robbie was 7, as he kept begging for a puppy. Murray was now 6.
I gave in a bit to their request, by putting out food and water on the porch, but I wasn't about to let such a dirty little animal come into our house. It was June, and I knew Mac would do fine as an outdoor cat.
Within only a couple of weeks, Mac filled out and began washing and grooming himself. Soon, he was quite a handsome little guy. The few encounters he had with Whitey and Murray were peaceful; Mac seemed to respect their ages and their positions in the house, and completely deferred to them, even though he soon grew to be bigger than either of them.
With September came some rains, and I allowed the kids to make a bed for Mac in our garage. Neither Whitey nor Murray
seemed to object, even though they passed right through the pet door into the garage on their way to the fenced back yard. Since Whitey had also come to us as a stray, we had never bothered to furnish a litter box; both he and Mac were quite used to using the great outdoors.
The cold weather in October broke my last reservations, and Mac was allowed to be a house cat at last. He continued to defer to both Whitey and Murray, and there was never a problem between them.
Soon, in fact, Mac and Murray forged a strong friendship, as they were both still young and playful. Whitey Cat, being now 15, mostly preferred to sleep most of the day, preferably on somebody's lap. But Mac and Murray would romp and play for most of the day. Mac would chase Murray into the kitchen, and then they would do an about-face, and Murray would chase Mac back into the living room. Then they would pretend to fight and would roll over and over together on the floor, in mock combat. Neither actually ever hurt the other one. They were a joy to watch, and always made me laugh.
Whitey died at the venerable age of 16 and 1/2, and Mac then took over as King of the Castle, continuing his close friendship with Murray, though both obviously missed Whitey.
One cold January day in 2000, I came home from shopping and saw Mac lying under the bushes in our front yard. I went to him to pick him up and take him into the house, but when I touched him, he was cold and stiff. My wails brought Robbie and his friend Andy running from the house. We could not find a mark on Mac, and we finally concluded that he must have licked some of the antifreeze that had spilled onto the driveway from my husband's antique car.
We sadly buried Mac in our back yard, right next to Whitey. They are underneath one of their favorite trees.
Murray, of course, was prostrate with grief and missed Mac so much that Robbie, Andy, and I went to the Animal Shelter a few days later and found Samantha, the beautiful calico cat that we still have. Samantha is now more than 17 years old.
To see a love story between Samantha the Calico Cat and Cheyenne, our baby granddaughter, visit their page: Love Story.
