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Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away.
My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
Cory wrote:
[snipped gently] So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory Yur mom an dad ar gud hoomins fur giffing Holly a TrooHome. Shee sownds beeyootiful an qwite da purrsonality. Fangu fur tellin us bowt her...yu did gud, Uncle Cory. Mietze wiff effurywun -- Remove the first m to reply |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
On Oct 16, 7:39 pm, Cory wrote:
My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. I wuz a barn-cat an onlee gotted to mofe intoo da hous az an adult. Sew I gnow dat it iz kwite a ajusment. I betted she WUVD da hous an her hoomins. Dat waz a gnice tribyoot. -- Wascal, between dances |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
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Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
Yu mayde da tribute tu Holly intu uh innereztink storee. Unka Cory.
-- Pitô.ônya "Cory" wrote in message g... My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
Dat wuz a furry nice tribyoot, Unka Cory.
Rebecca "Cory" wrote in message g... My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
On Thu, 16 Oct 2008 18:39:04 -0500, Cory's nimble, little paws typed:
My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory Dat wuz a furry nice tribyoot, Unka Corey... -- Purrs, Mme. Anaïs “I love cats because I take pleasure in my home; and little by little, the cats become its visible soul.†Jean Cocteau, 1889-1963 10/16/2008 11:24:12 PM |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
Oh, that is such a sweet story Cory. You all had such a special bond with
Holly and now at The Bridge, she can finally hear you. Purrs Mosey and Tabitha "Cory" ... My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
On Oct 16, 7:39*pm, Cory wrote:
My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. *In 1995, he passed away.. * My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. *Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". *A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. *AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. *She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. *My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any * time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). *So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. *She scared the snot out of me. *She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. *Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. *Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. *She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. *Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. *She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. *She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory Dat wazza furry nys tribyewt Unca Cory. Fantu fur sharin Holly'z storee wif us. DaRennieKidz |
Tribute to Holly, House of Ekern...
Dat wuz a gud tributz ta Holly. Gramby was laffing at da partz bout talkink
all da timez. Willow talkz a lot butted her iznt deaf, her is just a loud mouff cat. "Cory" wrote in message g... My grandfather lived on a farm my entire life. In 1995, he passed away. My mother and father went to the farmstead to clean, gather, pack, et al., after his death. Because the property was a farm, there were NUMEROUS farm cats... a lot of which were inbred, I believe. Anyway, the question, after Mom and Dad gathered and inventoried, etc., my grandfather's belongings, became one of "well, what the hey are we going to do with all of these cats????". A lot of them were surrendered to the Humane Society, and a fair number of cats who were older and less physically stable, were put to sleep... except for one in particular. Holly. Holly was a completely white-haired, blue-eyed kitty who was probably around 3 months old when my grandfather died. AIUI, because she had white fur and blue eyes, that fact alone explained why she was also deaf. She couldn't hear a word anyone ever said. My mom was adamant that she not be put to sleep, so she and my father adopted her. My parents and I, at the time, were not getting along all that well, so it would be maybe a year or two before I came to their house and met Holly. Holly, probably because of her deafness, had a habit of meowing any time she felt like it... and loudly, to boot (to me, her meowing was more like caterwauling, BID). The very first time Holly and I were alone together, she got a little uneasy, I think, because Mom and Dad were not in her house and instead, there was me, this stranger whom Holly had never seen up until 2-3 days before, and Holly didn't know that they'd left until she woke up from a nap (which she took often!). So, Holly comes out to the living room, looks around, goes downstairs, and starts meowing... LOUDLY. She scared the snot out of me. She came back upstairs, looked at me, and sauntered down the hallway, STILL meowing. Now, because Holly's deaf, she's not going to hear me when I'm talking to her. Thus, I just had to wait until my folks got home to figure out what was wrong with her. "Um, I think something's wrong with your cat. She's been roaming around the house meowing AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. Is she in heat?" "Oh, she's fine,", says my Mom, "she just does that... ALL the time." "Why???" "Well, we have a feeling that she's trying to find other cats or her littermates or something along those lines." "Oh..." So... for the next 13 years, Holly continued to talk to us anytime she felt like it. She would never, ever hear us talk back to her, but she felt comforted, I guess, by the fact that we would never abandon her when she DID talk to us. Holly was a good cat. She had her favorites... her most favorite person, I think, was her daddy (my father)... and she wasn't too fond of the other cats (nor they of her at times)... but she was one of those unique, one-of-a-kind kitties, and she is missed. --- Unca Cory |
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