Meowzers
Meowzers lived for 18 1/2 years in a house on a dead-end street in Bethesda, Maryland. She was the "3rd child" of the household mom, and she knew it. Meowzers did not like other cats, and her favorite person was her "mom."
When she was four weeks old, an eleven-year-old girl chose Meowzers as a birthday gift. The little girl picked up the kitten and refused to put her down. The mom then had the task of persuading the man with the kittens to let this one go a few weeks earlier than the law said he could. And Meowzers was the hit of the girl's 11th birthday party, the star attraction for a bunch of little girls.
The mom's first-born and real child named her. Meowzers was a beautiful, long-haired, tortoise shell calico, with tortoise on her back and calico on her tummy, and a long flowing tail. She did not hold her tail up. Rather, her tail would trail behind her, like the back of a long flowing gown on the elegant Loretta Young. People always said that Meowzers looked like a Maine Coon cat, but she was just a "by chance" cat.
On perfect days, when it was warm and sunny but not too warm, Meowzers would sit on the slate walkway in front of her house and soak up the warmth of the slate. She was five steps above any person who would walk past on the sidewalk, and she was so beautiful that she would attract attention. If she deemed the person worthy, she might allow the passing person to pet her. If not, she would hiss and scare the person off. Meowzers had some "attitude." Even as an old cat, she had enough "attitude" to keep the new young cat in the household in his place.
She was no mouser, never caught a mouse in her life, and would not have known how. The only thing she ever killed was one moth that chanced to get inside and must have flown into her mouth in a suicide mission.
When she was a young kitten, the household children would play a game with her that they called "sweep the cat." It never harmed her, but she was not thrilled by it, and she had a life-long dislike of brooms because of it. When she was young, the girl in the family would put her in a backpack with her head sticking out, attach the backpack to the front of her bike, and ride around the neighborhood with Meowzers. Meowzers tolerated it. She also tolerated being dressed in doll clothes by the girl.
She was a good family cat and for 18 1/2 years gave comfort to her family. A week before she died, the "boy" of the family – long since grown – knew Meowzers was near her end. He flew half-way across the country to see her one more time. She was loved.
She died in her "mom's" arms, in the rocking chair in the living room of her house, and her "mom" cried in surprise and sadness.
Her grave is under the old oak tree in the backyard of the house where she lived all her life, where the children in her family once had a tree house. Four months before Meowzers died, her "foster sister cat" had died and been buried under that same tree: Sneezers.
♡／l、
（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
l、 ~ヽ
じしf_, )ノ
She was my friend. She would touch her nose to mine. She would put her paw across my arm and hold it. In her last months as she spent most of her time lying on a safe bed on the floor, because she no longer could get above the floor, when I would go to her to visit her, she would sometimes reach out and hold my forearm, almost as if she were saying, "Don't go. Stay with me a little longer." And when I could, I stayed a little longer. For 18 1/2 years, Meowzers was my friend.
Meowzers lived for 18 1/2 years in a house on a dead-end street in Bethesda, Maryland. She was the "3rd child" of the household mom, and she knew it. Meowzers did not like other cats, and her favorite person was her "mom."
When she was four weeks old, an eleven-year-old girl chose Meowzers as a birthday gift. The little girl picked up the kitten and refused to put her down. The mom then had the task of persuading the man with the kittens to let this one go a few weeks earlier than the law said he could. And Meowzers was the hit of the girl's 11th birthday party, the star attraction for a bunch of little girls.
The mom's first-born and real child named her. Meowzers was a beautiful, long-haired, tortoise shell calico, with tortoise on her back and calico on her tummy, and a long flowing tail. She did not hold her tail up. Rather, her tail would trail behind her, like the back of a long flowing gown on the elegant Loretta Young. People always said that Meowzers looked like a Maine Coon cat, but she was just a "by chance" cat.
On perfect days, when it was warm and sunny but not too warm, Meowzers would sit on the slate walkway in front of her house and soak up the warmth of the slate. She was five steps above any person who would walk past on the sidewalk, and she was so beautiful that she would attract attention. If she deemed the person worthy, she might allow the passing person to pet her. If not, she would hiss and scare the person off. Meowzers had some "attitude." Even as an old cat, she had enough "attitude" to keep the new young cat in the household in his place.
She was no mouser, never caught a mouse in her life, and would not have known how. The only thing she ever killed was one moth that chanced to get inside and must have flown into her mouth in a suicide mission.
When she was a young kitten, the household children would play a game with her that they called "sweep the cat." It never harmed her, but she was not thrilled by it, and she had a life-long dislike of brooms because of it. When she was young, the girl in the family would put her in a backpack with her head sticking out, attach the backpack to the front of her bike, and ride around the neighborhood with Meowzers. Meowzers tolerated it. She also tolerated being dressed in doll clothes by the girl.
She was a good family cat and for 18 1/2 years gave comfort to her family. A week before she died, the "boy" of the family – long since grown – knew Meowzers was near her end. He flew half-way across the country to see her one more time. She was loved.
She died in her "mom's" arms, in the rocking chair in the living room of her house, and her "mom" cried in surprise and sadness.
Her grave is under the old oak tree in the backyard of the house where she lived all her life, where the children in her family once had a tree house. Four months before Meowzers died, her "foster sister cat" had died and been buried under that same tree: Sneezers.
♡／l、
（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
l、 ~ヽ
じしf_, )ノ
She was my friend. She would touch her nose to mine. She would put her paw across my arm and hold it. In her last months as she spent most of her time lying on a safe bed on the floor, because she no longer could get above the floor, when I would go to her to visit her, she would sometimes reach out and hold my forearm, almost as if she were saying, "Don't go. Stay with me a little longer." And when I could, I stayed a little longer. For 18 1/2 years, Meowzers was my friend.
Meowzers
Meowzers lived for 18 1/2 years in a house on a dead-end street in Bethesda, Maryland. She was the "3rd child" of the household mom, and she knew it. Meowzers did not like other cats, and her favorite person was her "mom."
When she was four weeks old, an eleven-year-old girl chose Meowzers as a birthday gift. The little girl picked up the kitten and refused to put her down. The mom then had the task of persuading the man with the kittens to let this one go a few weeks earlier than the law said he could. And Meowzers was the hit of the girl's 11th birthday party, the star attraction for a bunch of little girls.
The mom's first-born and real child named her. Meowzers was a beautiful, long-haired, tortoise shell calico, with tortoise on her back and calico on her tummy, and a long flowing tail. She did not hold her tail up. Rather, her tail would trail behind her, like the back of a long flowing gown on the elegant Loretta Young. People always said that Meowzers looked like a Maine Coon cat, but she was just a "by chance" cat.
On perfect days, when it was warm and sunny but not too warm, Meowzers would sit on the slate walkway in front of her house and soak up the warmth of the slate. She was five steps above any person who would walk past on the sidewalk, and she was so beautiful that she would attract attention. If she deemed the person worthy, she might allow the passing person to pet her. If not, she would hiss and scare the person off. Meowzers had some "attitude." Even as an old cat, she had enough "attitude" to keep the new young cat in the household in his place.
She was no mouser, never caught a mouse in her life, and would not have known how. The only thing she ever killed was one moth that chanced to get inside and must have flown into her mouth in a suicide mission.
When she was a young kitten, the household children would play a game with her that they called "sweep the cat." It never harmed her, but she was not thrilled by it, and she had a life-long dislike of brooms because of it. When she was young, the girl in the family would put her in a backpack with her head sticking out, attach the backpack to the front of her bike, and ride around the neighborhood with Meowzers. Meowzers tolerated it. She also tolerated being dressed in doll clothes by the girl.
She was a good family cat and for 18 1/2 years gave comfort to her family. A week before she died, the "boy" of the family – long since grown – knew Meowzers was near her end. He flew half-way across the country to see her one more time. She was loved.
She died in her "mom's" arms, in the rocking chair in the living room of her house, and her "mom" cried in surprise and sadness.
Her grave is under the old oak tree in the backyard of the house where she lived all her life, where the children in her family once had a tree house. Four months before Meowzers died, her "foster sister cat" had died and been buried under that same tree: Sneezers.
♡／l、
（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
l、 ~ヽ
じしf_, )ノ
She was my friend. She would touch her nose to mine. She would put her paw across my arm and hold it. In her last months as she spent most of her time lying on a safe bed on the floor, because she no longer could get above the floor, when I would go to her to visit her, she would sometimes reach out and hold my forearm, almost as if she were saying, "Don't go. Stay with me a little longer." And when I could, I stayed a little longer. For 18 1/2 years, Meowzers was my friend.
Meowzers lived for 18 1/2 years in a house on a dead-end street in Bethesda, Maryland. She was the "3rd child" of the household mom, and she knew it. Meowzers did not like other cats, and her favorite person was her "mom."
When she was four weeks old, an eleven-year-old girl chose Meowzers as a birthday gift. The little girl picked up the kitten and refused to put her down. The mom then had the task of persuading the man with the kittens to let this one go a few weeks earlier than the law said he could. And Meowzers was the hit of the girl's 11th birthday party, the star attraction for a bunch of little girls.
The mom's first-born and real child named her. Meowzers was a beautiful, long-haired, tortoise shell calico, with tortoise on her back and calico on her tummy, and a long flowing tail. She did not hold her tail up. Rather, her tail would trail behind her, like the back of a long flowing gown on the elegant Loretta Young. People always said that Meowzers looked like a Maine Coon cat, but she was just a "by chance" cat.
On perfect days, when it was warm and sunny but not too warm, Meowzers would sit on the slate walkway in front of her house and soak up the warmth of the slate. She was five steps above any person who would walk past on the sidewalk, and she was so beautiful that she would attract attention. If she deemed the person worthy, she might allow the passing person to pet her. If not, she would hiss and scare the person off. Meowzers had some "attitude." Even as an old cat, she had enough "attitude" to keep the new young cat in the household in his place.
She was no mouser, never caught a mouse in her life, and would not have known how. The only thing she ever killed was one moth that chanced to get inside and must have flown into her mouth in a suicide mission.
When she was a young kitten, the household children would play a game with her that they called "sweep the cat." It never harmed her, but she was not thrilled by it, and she had a life-long dislike of brooms because of it. When she was young, the girl in the family would put her in a backpack with her head sticking out, attach the backpack to the front of her bike, and ride around the neighborhood with Meowzers. Meowzers tolerated it. She also tolerated being dressed in doll clothes by the girl.
She was a good family cat and for 18 1/2 years gave comfort to her family. A week before she died, the "boy" of the family – long since grown – knew Meowzers was near her end. He flew half-way across the country to see her one more time. She was loved.
She died in her "mom's" arms, in the rocking chair in the living room of her house, and her "mom" cried in surprise and sadness.
Her grave is under the old oak tree in the backyard of the house where she lived all her life, where the children in her family once had a tree house. Four months before Meowzers died, her "foster sister cat" had died and been buried under that same tree: Sneezers.
♡／l、
（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
l、 ~ヽ
じしf_, )ノ
She was my friend. She would touch her nose to mine. She would put her paw across my arm and hold it. In her last months as she spent most of her time lying on a safe bed on the floor, because she no longer could get above the floor, when I would go to her to visit her, she would sometimes reach out and hold my forearm, almost as if she were saying, "Don't go. Stay with me a little longer." And when I could, I stayed a little longer. For 18 1/2 years, Meowzers was my friend.
