*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
He was a very good boy... Thats what I always told him.
And he was... a Very Good Boy...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥'♥~*
This is I wrote about him in September of 2009...
Osgood, Snozgood, Ozgoodnia... All names I call this pale creamsicle Boy...
I first noticed him about this time 3 years ago. I would have the patio door open and out of the corner of my eye there would be this Fleeting wraith, sliding away from the bowl filled with dog food for the Coons and Possums... You would hear crunching, but as you turned your head, It was Gone... Not Really sure what was Glimpsed at all...
After a few weeks of this I began putting a lil' bowl of kittheh food nearer the open door. I would perch in the small alcove and wait until He would materialise... Thin, Gaunt, Uncombed, Terrified. Tattered ears and barely audible raspy voice. Every bone showing thru grubby fur. Over the days he worked his way closer to the food. He would try and eat but the crunchies would fall out of his mouth or he would gag... So He would just scarf them whole. As my voice wheedled and soothed and made promises, he finally ate at the doorway. I used an old comb to ruffle his fur. Just a breath of touch.
This went on for a week or so. He would eat, and just barely contain himself and allow the touch. He grew Bolder... And so did I...
Finally one day My mind set, I picked him up... Much Growling and Snarling and Hissing ensued. Glaring straight into my eyes with Fear and Terror and Uncertainty. Holding him to me I petted and smoothed and kept promising.
I guess he believed me. He has been an Indoor Kittheh for almost two years now... Sleeps where he wants.. When He wants... Right now its not on His blankie folded on top of the bookcase... Or the pillow in the bedroom. Or in the Kittheh Cottage... Its in an enamel food crisper drawer, with a wadded up shopping bag, sitting on the dining room table... Sigh...
He has all the squishy canned food he wants. Loves temptashuns (even tho they are crunchy)... Actually he hasn't really met any food he doesn't like...He was hungry for So Long, He has to eat... At least Sample what is offered.
Somewhere-Sometime he was someones lap baby. He wears a flea collar like He is "A Big Boy Now". Loves to be brushed and combed and fiddled with. His claws trimmed with a minimum of fuss...Doesn't care for his monthly baths tho- I've got the shred marks to prove it.
... And the reason the crunchy food would fall out of his mouth ?
His poor mouth is almost toothless... He had lived a Hard Mean Cold Loveless Life in there somewhere...
But now His name is Osgood... And He is a Very Good Boy...
Not just sure what He Is Good For Yet...
Maybe just Being a Second Chance...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
Edited to add: I used his adopt date as his birthday. But he must have been at least 10 years older.
My heartfelt gratitude to Deb for her sponsorship of Osgoods Memorial page. She is such a blessing. !!
(Her #47236216)
He was a very good boy... Thats what I always told him.
And he was... a Very Good Boy...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥'♥~*
This is I wrote about him in September of 2009...
Osgood, Snozgood, Ozgoodnia... All names I call this pale creamsicle Boy...
I first noticed him about this time 3 years ago. I would have the patio door open and out of the corner of my eye there would be this Fleeting wraith, sliding away from the bowl filled with dog food for the Coons and Possums... You would hear crunching, but as you turned your head, It was Gone... Not Really sure what was Glimpsed at all...
After a few weeks of this I began putting a lil' bowl of kittheh food nearer the open door. I would perch in the small alcove and wait until He would materialise... Thin, Gaunt, Uncombed, Terrified. Tattered ears and barely audible raspy voice. Every bone showing thru grubby fur. Over the days he worked his way closer to the food. He would try and eat but the crunchies would fall out of his mouth or he would gag... So He would just scarf them whole. As my voice wheedled and soothed and made promises, he finally ate at the doorway. I used an old comb to ruffle his fur. Just a breath of touch.
This went on for a week or so. He would eat, and just barely contain himself and allow the touch. He grew Bolder... And so did I...
Finally one day My mind set, I picked him up... Much Growling and Snarling and Hissing ensued. Glaring straight into my eyes with Fear and Terror and Uncertainty. Holding him to me I petted and smoothed and kept promising.
I guess he believed me. He has been an Indoor Kittheh for almost two years now... Sleeps where he wants.. When He wants... Right now its not on His blankie folded on top of the bookcase... Or the pillow in the bedroom. Or in the Kittheh Cottage... Its in an enamel food crisper drawer, with a wadded up shopping bag, sitting on the dining room table... Sigh...
He has all the squishy canned food he wants. Loves temptashuns (even tho they are crunchy)... Actually he hasn't really met any food he doesn't like...He was hungry for So Long, He has to eat... At least Sample what is offered.
Somewhere-Sometime he was someones lap baby. He wears a flea collar like He is "A Big Boy Now". Loves to be brushed and combed and fiddled with. His claws trimmed with a minimum of fuss...Doesn't care for his monthly baths tho- I've got the shred marks to prove it.
... And the reason the crunchy food would fall out of his mouth ?
His poor mouth is almost toothless... He had lived a Hard Mean Cold Loveless Life in there somewhere...
But now His name is Osgood... And He is a Very Good Boy...
Not just sure what He Is Good For Yet...
Maybe just Being a Second Chance...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
Edited to add: I used his adopt date as his birthday. But he must have been at least 10 years older.
My heartfelt gratitude to Deb for her sponsorship of Osgoods Memorial page. She is such a blessing. !!
(Her #47236216)
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
He was a very good boy... Thats what I always told him.
And he was... a Very Good Boy...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥'♥~*
This is I wrote about him in September of 2009...
Osgood, Snozgood, Ozgoodnia... All names I call this pale creamsicle Boy...
I first noticed him about this time 3 years ago. I would have the patio door open and out of the corner of my eye there would be this Fleeting wraith, sliding away from the bowl filled with dog food for the Coons and Possums... You would hear crunching, but as you turned your head, It was Gone... Not Really sure what was Glimpsed at all...
After a few weeks of this I began putting a lil' bowl of kittheh food nearer the open door. I would perch in the small alcove and wait until He would materialise... Thin, Gaunt, Uncombed, Terrified. Tattered ears and barely audible raspy voice. Every bone showing thru grubby fur. Over the days he worked his way closer to the food. He would try and eat but the crunchies would fall out of his mouth or he would gag... So He would just scarf them whole. As my voice wheedled and soothed and made promises, he finally ate at the doorway. I used an old comb to ruffle his fur. Just a breath of touch.
This went on for a week or so. He would eat, and just barely contain himself and allow the touch. He grew Bolder... And so did I...
Finally one day My mind set, I picked him up... Much Growling and Snarling and Hissing ensued. Glaring straight into my eyes with Fear and Terror and Uncertainty. Holding him to me I petted and smoothed and kept promising.
I guess he believed me. He has been an Indoor Kittheh for almost two years now... Sleeps where he wants.. When He wants... Right now its not on His blankie folded on top of the bookcase... Or the pillow in the bedroom. Or in the Kittheh Cottage... Its in an enamel food crisper drawer, with a wadded up shopping bag, sitting on the dining room table... Sigh...
He has all the squishy canned food he wants. Loves temptashuns (even tho they are crunchy)... Actually he hasn't really met any food he doesn't like...He was hungry for So Long, He has to eat... At least Sample what is offered.
Somewhere-Sometime he was someones lap baby. He wears a flea collar like He is "A Big Boy Now". Loves to be brushed and combed and fiddled with. His claws trimmed with a minimum of fuss...Doesn't care for his monthly baths tho- I've got the shred marks to prove it.
... And the reason the crunchy food would fall out of his mouth ?
His poor mouth is almost toothless... He had lived a Hard Mean Cold Loveless Life in there somewhere...
But now His name is Osgood... And He is a Very Good Boy...
Not just sure what He Is Good For Yet...
Maybe just Being a Second Chance...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
Edited to add: I used his adopt date as his birthday. But he must have been at least 10 years older.
My heartfelt gratitude to Deb for her sponsorship of Osgoods Memorial page. She is such a blessing. !!
(Her #47236216)
He was a very good boy... Thats what I always told him.
And he was... a Very Good Boy...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥'♥~*
This is I wrote about him in September of 2009...
Osgood, Snozgood, Ozgoodnia... All names I call this pale creamsicle Boy...
I first noticed him about this time 3 years ago. I would have the patio door open and out of the corner of my eye there would be this Fleeting wraith, sliding away from the bowl filled with dog food for the Coons and Possums... You would hear crunching, but as you turned your head, It was Gone... Not Really sure what was Glimpsed at all...
After a few weeks of this I began putting a lil' bowl of kittheh food nearer the open door. I would perch in the small alcove and wait until He would materialise... Thin, Gaunt, Uncombed, Terrified. Tattered ears and barely audible raspy voice. Every bone showing thru grubby fur. Over the days he worked his way closer to the food. He would try and eat but the crunchies would fall out of his mouth or he would gag... So He would just scarf them whole. As my voice wheedled and soothed and made promises, he finally ate at the doorway. I used an old comb to ruffle his fur. Just a breath of touch.
This went on for a week or so. He would eat, and just barely contain himself and allow the touch. He grew Bolder... And so did I...
Finally one day My mind set, I picked him up... Much Growling and Snarling and Hissing ensued. Glaring straight into my eyes with Fear and Terror and Uncertainty. Holding him to me I petted and smoothed and kept promising.
I guess he believed me. He has been an Indoor Kittheh for almost two years now... Sleeps where he wants.. When He wants... Right now its not on His blankie folded on top of the bookcase... Or the pillow in the bedroom. Or in the Kittheh Cottage... Its in an enamel food crisper drawer, with a wadded up shopping bag, sitting on the dining room table... Sigh...
He has all the squishy canned food he wants. Loves temptashuns (even tho they are crunchy)... Actually he hasn't really met any food he doesn't like...He was hungry for So Long, He has to eat... At least Sample what is offered.
Somewhere-Sometime he was someones lap baby. He wears a flea collar like He is "A Big Boy Now". Loves to be brushed and combed and fiddled with. His claws trimmed with a minimum of fuss...Doesn't care for his monthly baths tho- I've got the shred marks to prove it.
... And the reason the crunchy food would fall out of his mouth ?
His poor mouth is almost toothless... He had lived a Hard Mean Cold Loveless Life in there somewhere...
But now His name is Osgood... And He is a Very Good Boy...
Not just sure what He Is Good For Yet...
Maybe just Being a Second Chance...
*~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~*
Edited to add: I used his adopt date as his birthday. But he must have been at least 10 years older.
My heartfelt gratitude to Deb for her sponsorship of Osgoods Memorial page. She is such a blessing. !!
(Her #47236216)
