Posted by: kenziekat | February 3, 2010

The Cat Life Story


I grew up having cats on a 70 acre farm. Sadly, I’ve probably had fifteen cats in my twenty years of life. Farm cats don’t last long, no matter how much love you give them. If it were up to my mom and I, all our fifteen cats would have been kept inside, but the father figure would never allow that. Thus, the only way we could convince him to have one was to put one outside to keep away the mice and rodents out of his tractors and toys.

My first farm cat was Whiskers, named after a cat I saw on Barney. I think I was five, maybe four. Whiskers got dressed up in baby clothes and pushed in strollers on a daily basis. Whiskers probably hated me, but I loved him.

Three kittens and cats later I met Tinker, who I took home immediately. Tinker was a “tomcat”, but he had six kittens the first year we had him.  Quite amusing to my under 10 year old self. We kept two of Tinker’s kittens and named them Survior and Garfield.

Dad tried to kill Survivor.

He was a runt and very sickly when he was born. Dad threw him in a garbage bad to bury (don’t think ill of him, he really thought she was dead), but as dad carried the bag over the kill, I saw movement, and begged him to stop. We had to feed Survivor by hand for the first six months of her life. She was the best, most perfect cat I could’ve asked for (besides Kenzie).

After that, there were many cats, some that I can’t remember, and others that stick out in my mind. There was Roxie, Trixie, a white devil cat whose name I can’t recall, and a dog named Medlie (who is still alive and well), and Armani.

Armani, particularly, was my final cat before I moved out on my own. Armani was pure black with big green eyes, and he was so very cuddly. I wish he would have been an inside cat, he was far too pretty and nice to be all alone outside. Armani disappeared my senior year of highschool–coyotes prey on cats in my area, unfortunately.

Now, in my last year of college I have Kenzie, and thankfully, she is not a farm cat; in fact, she’s quite the diva. I hope she lives forever.  After reading one of my fellow cat blogs during my comment spree, I came to a wonderful epiphany.

Before Kenzie, I had farm cats, with a life expectancy of 3 years. Now, I have a house cat and her life expectancy is MUCH longer.  Kenzie will, if all goes well, be around until I’m well into my thirties! I don’t have to worry about her getting hit by a car, eaten by coyotes, or lost in the woods. I can love her, and care for her, and be with her for the next fifteen-twenty years of my life, god willing.

What a spectacular thing to know I’ll have a constant companion who gives me unconditional love.

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Responses

  1. what a beautiful story. I had a constant influx of barn cats growing up too, and their life expectancy is pretty non existent.

    I can’t even remember how many we went through, but before I learned their names they were usually long gone. Probably my first adventure in heartache….

  2. We have a beautiful gray and white house cat. He was an out door can until we moved into an apartment. Barran-Dean has adapted quite well to being an in door cat,no spraying,no scratching of furniture except one old wooden chair that we permit him to scratch and ocasional box we bring in for his enjoyment. He is such a joy. I wonder what his life span is? And oh yes he is very spoiled. Also he does some tricks and communicates to us thru paw touches as to what he wants. I swear I am?not crazy!!!


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