Last Tuesday night, as I was taking Maebelle out for her nightly constitutional, a black cat bailed off of our porch, ran to the gate and sat there looking at me. I tried to call him to me to no avail. Maebelle and I went back to bed. When I came in the door Wednesday after work, my mother said “be real careful when you go on the porch there’s a kitten out there”. I knew it was my cat from Tuesday night. I eased outside, sat on the porch and he walked up talking and kneading. I put my hand on him to rub and his motor kicked in. That was it, it was over, I was in love. Now mind you, I DO NOT like cats, especially sow cats because they don’t love you, they are fickle. Toms on the other hand, the more love the better.
I went back inside, opened a can of wet dog food (all I had) and he almost took my hand off, he was starving. Literally, I could rub down his back, count every vertebrae and count every rib. And his fur wasn’t soft and kind like well kept cats are. I loved on him some more, made him a bed and went off to bed myself.
I was so excited when I woke up Thursday. I fed the inside dogs, got the cat some thing to eat and walked on the porch and no cat. He had gotten sick during the night. I called him and he didn’t come. I took the food in and asked my mother if she’d feed him if she saw him. She called me later that morning and told me he’d come up and ate. I got home Thursday night, same dance, I loved on him, fed him and then I named him…Riddick. We went through a few names until he looked at me when I said Riddick, so there you have it. A cat with a name. We went to bed Thursday night, Friday morning, no Riddick and he’d gotten sick, again. Saturday, I put him in the pet taxi, which he walked into without any problems, and off to the vet we went.
Turns out, Riddick, is about four or five years old and wormy (duh!!!). He had his blood drawn – negative for feline leukemia and aids – woohoo! And Dr. Chip clipped his nails which were sharp, trust me, he likes to knead on you as you pet him.
I had some very short errands to run before going home, he never cried the first time (my sister was in the car with him, I NEVER leave my animals in the car, EVER!). We made it home, he came out, I fed him and loved on him. By that afternoon, I just knew I was going to loose him. He was so sick from the worm medicine. I went to bed and cried because I just knew I’d killed him. He was too frail and underfed for a wormer that strong.
Sunday morning couldn’t get here fast enough. He’d gotten sick, again, and was gone. I called and called and nothing. I walked back in and told the parents I knew better than to let him be wormed until he had more meat on him. Just as I was getting ready for church, Momma walked in and said Riddick is on the front porch ready for his food. I dressed as fast as I could (which isn’t fast in the mornings, as I’m so stiff). I grabbed his food, I had it all ready, walked out on the porch and there he was, talking, kneading and rubbing up against me.
I fed him. After he ate, I picked him up and rubbed and he purred and he has my heart for sure. (Not Samson’s part, but a piece which Samson left behind.) After church, I fed him a little more, and continued that through out the day. He never got sick. Last night, I fed him, loved on him, we had our little talk (he’s an excellent listener, like Samson was) and I was in for the night.
This morning when I got up and took Maebelle out, he jumped off the swing. I picked him up, loved on him, and went back inside and fixed his food. I fed the dogs, took him his food and rubbed him down the back, he felt like a different cat. I’m not sure a wormer is supposed to work that fast, but he feels different. And he wasn’t sick!!!!!! Riddick 1, worms 0!!!!!
I was supposed to take him in today for a neutering, but he was so very sick Saturday that I think I owed it to him to give him a week before I cause more pain to be inflicted on him. Next Monday, he’s be fixed and vaccinated while he’s under.
Some of his funnies, he will put his paws on you like a dog and stretch while you rub him down the back. If you start to walk away and he’s not finished loving, he will take his paws and grab your leg. He scared me the first time he did that.
I know he used to belong to someone, he had to because he is so lovable. He’s crate trained and is an indoor/outdoor cat, although there is no indoor for him until he is fixed and vaccinated. Then we’ll see if we can transition him inside/outside like our other two sow cats (who DO NOT like him, he has the front porch to himself, neh!).
I know I shouldn’t fall so hard for a Tom cat because we’ve had our fair share and they’ve all met their ends in the road (I’m hoping and praying the fence will be a detriment), lost a fight to a younger Tom, or failed to out round the wild dogs on our hill. Either way, I will love Riddick while I have him. I will see that he’s fed and never has to worry about his next meal. I will keep him wormed and vaccinated, so he doesn’t have to worry about being sick. And when his last day on Earth comes, I hope I’ve given him all the love he can handle.
My beautiful Riddick….