A sick little kitty when he was young
but then, many little guys have a hard time
making it to adulthood
This one did, and lived almost 15 years
Terry Lee was his name
and he spent a goodly part of his life right here
on Dad's lap napping between belly rubs
He was a big kitty, and he was a scrapper
always standing up to enormous odds
His Momma Kitty taught him well
this was his favorite spot when time for Dad's reading
and usually most of the night
it was cold in that old farm house
He, his Momfurr, Princess Ebony and his Brofurr, Jon Tommy helped us move to the SouthWoods and homestead there. He was MY cat. The first in a long line that let it be known I was his and there was no debating the subject. We talked long hours, plotted many fun things, and worked on many a project in the woodworking shop in the dairy barn.
He even tried to help me deliver several loads. I always left him behind to take care of his Mom and His brother though. Not sure who took care of who/whom, but they were always waiting for me when I returned. I'd stop along the way for treats after I made the deliveries.
Terry Lee is a very warm memory that will help keep me through the cold days when the present day kitties all hover around their Small One, Lady Lisa.
Memories are good, especially when they have fur, purr a lot, and they own you.
As always, I feel loved.