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#1
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Rocky's autobiography (looong)
Sorry if anyone thinks this is too long. I broke it down into parts
and seriously considered posting each part separately, but then decided that if I were one of those reading I'd rather get the whole story in one fell swoop. Anyway, there's Rocky's Story, from his viewpoint. Part One - I Become the King It’s been a while now since I joined this here family, so I figured it was time to sit down and tell my story. I probably wouldn’t bother, but the one the hoomin calls Sammy tells me both she and her momma, called Little Bit by the hoomin, have told their stories and that I should tell mine. I can’t tell you much about my early years. Really have no idea how old I am. I know that the cold and hot times came several times. Momma taught me how to hunt for food, how to find cool spots when it was hot, and warm spots during the cold times. Momma taught me from an early age that hoomins weren’t to be trusted. I figure she was right about most stuff, but lately I’ve found that at least SOME hoomins are OK. After I got bigger and momma and I got separated. I really don’t know where she went. Things were pretty rough there for a while. All the older, bigger cats didn’t want me around, so I got beat up until I learned how to fight and protect myself. After a couple more hot and cold times came and went, it got so that I was winning more fights than I was losing. Things were really starting to look up. I established my own little territory where I was the King. All the other cats in the neighborhood gave me the respect I deserved. When some young upstart gave me grief I’d either whip them into shape, or make life so miserable for them that they moved out of my kingdom. There were always hoomins around, but I avoided them as much as I could and didn’t give them much thought. Part Two - Changes After living the good life for a couple more hot and cold times a couple things happened that changed my life. You see there was a group of hoomin dwellings in my kingdom where a brown-nosed tom cat used to hang around. I later learned he was what the hoomins call a tuxedo kitty. He had a white face and a black nose, but I always called him brown-nose because of how he was always cozying up to the hoomins. The hoomins called him Spot, though. He used to say he was the official apartment complex cat. It worked for him, he used to go inside the various hoomin houses to sleep at night, could got out of the worst weather, and get all the best food. The other thing that happened which ended up changing my life was that about this time a new hoomin moved into one of the hoomin houses. Eventually I’d end up trustung this particular hoomin and even let him pet me, but that was still in the future. The first thing about this new hoomin that changed my life was that when he learned about Spot he started putting food outside to encourage Spot to come eat at there, and sometimes spend the night sleeping on his bed. I couldn’t have cared less about going into the hoomin’s house, but the food he put out for Spot was GOOD, so I started eating it when the hoomin put it out. Life got even better. All us neighborhood cats had a new source of good food, which of course is always welcome when you’re not sure when the next meal is coming. At first I ran and hid whenever I saw the hoomin, but over time I learned that he wouldn’t throw things or chase me away. So, after a time I stopped running whenever I saw him. After a while I started going closer and waiting while he filled up the food bowl. I learned a startling fact, it actually feels nice when a hoomin scritches you in that certain spot that you just can’t seem to reach behind your ear. Part Three - Betrayal and My First TED Visit Life was good. I had the occasional challenge to my rule of the kingdom, but still won all my fights. After one fight, though, I had a war wound to my front leg. It really hurt and just wouldn’t heal right. The hoomin noticed that my leg was all swollen, about three times the size of the other one. He tried to touch it, but I wasn’t about to put up with that so I hightailed it out of there and stayed away. After a couple days I was starting to get really hungry, so I decided to go back and see if he was still putting out food. When I got there the food bowl was full, and I was so hungry I let the hoomin take a close look. The next morning when I went back to eat the hoomin was there waiting. When I bent over the bowl he snatched me up and stuck me in a box. Next thing I knew he carried me over to one of those big moving monsters that the hoomins sit in and ride around in. The hoomin put me inside the monster and it made a lot of noise and we were moving. It didn’t last long, and when we stopped the hoomin carried me inside a different hoomin places. The hoomin talked to some other hoomin, and then after waiting a while carried me to a smaller room where we waited again until another strange hoomin came. This was the worst hoomin yet, and I was really beginning to think my momma had been right when she told me not to trust these hoomins. This new hoomin looked at me through the bars on the box, and they opened the side of the box. I made a break for it, but there was no place to go. They threw something over me and held me so I couldn’t bite or scratch them while this new hoomin poked and prodded me. It ended up with this new hoomin sticking me with something sharp, but it didn’t hurt much. When they put the box with the bars on the table I decided it was a lot safer inside the box than outside where they could poke, prod and stab me with sharp sticks. So, when they loosened their grip a bit I darted back into that box. Turned out, though, that’s what they wanted. The hoomins exchanged some of their strange noises, then the hoomin who had betrayed my trust picked up the box, and carried me back to the moving monster. After the strange moving feeling, the monster stopped and the hoomin carried me awhile. When he put down the box I found I was back where the adventure had started. The hoomin opened the side of the box, and I was OUT OF THERE. It may sound strange, but after the trip in the monster and having that strange hoomin stab me with the sharp stick, my leg stopped hurting and healed up a lot quicker than war wounds normally do. I stayed gone for several days before I went back to check for food, though. For a long time I didn’t trust the hoomin and kept my distance. Eventually, I forgave him, after all he kept putting out food, and things went back to the way they were before. Part Four - Little Bit and Sammy Move In and Another TED Visit I was still the King, I lived the good life, and my sore leg was good as new. Sometime during this period Spot, the self proclaimed apartment cat, disappeared. I heard the hoomin say later that he had gotten himself locked inside one of those BIG moving monsters with some other hoomin’s furniture and gone to someplace called California. Serves old brown nose right, but I hear he was happy as he stopped being an apartment cat and had his own family. Another cold time came and went. One of the neighborhood girls cats, called Little Bit, moved in with the hoomin, had some babies. She started living inside with the hoomin with Sammy, one of the babies. I started trusting the hoomin again, and even went inside the hoomin’s apartment to eat sometimes, since the cats that now lived there seemed to get better food than what the hoomin put out for us neighborhood cats. Things were good, until another challenge came and I had to put another pipsqueak in his place. Once again I got one of those swollen leg wounds which just won’t heal. The hoomin tried to stick me inside the box with bars, but I remembered from the other time and took off and stayed away for a couple days. Guess I was getting spoiled by the regular meals of good food, though, and it was hard to get enough to eat when it hurt to walk, so eventually I went back. Since it was so hard to walk with my wound, the hoomin managed to catch me and stick me in the box. It was pretty much a repeat of the first time - into the moving monster, back to the smelly hoomin place, stabbed by the strange hoomin, then coming back to where we had started from. I took off again as soon as the hoomin put down the box and opened the bars, but didn’t stay away as long. You know, there may just something about that stick the strange hoomin stabs you with, because the swelling started going down again, and in no time the wound healed. Part Five - I Become Part of the Family and Get a Name Things went back to normal. More hot times followed by cold times came and went. Life was good. Then a time came when the hoomin started saying he might move, and he started asking me if I would want to move to some place and become something called a “barn cat”. He said something about having something fixed before I became a barn cat. I really had no clue about what he was talking about. I tried to tell him I was the King, life was good, nothing needed fixing, and I had no intention of becoming a barn cat - whatever a barn cat was. One day when I went to eat he was waiting there with the bar-box. There was no way I was going to go into that thing, especially not this time as I didn’t even have a sore leg. So I took off and stayed away for a few days. I checked a couple times, but he had stopped putting out food. Then, one day when I went back he opened the door and told me to come inside if I wanted to eat. By that time I was getting pretty hungry, so I went on inside. Turns out that was a BIG mistake, because as soon as I started eating he dropped something over me and before I could get away I was back inside that blasted bar-box and on the way to the monster. This time we ended up at a different smelly place, and the hoomin abandoned me and left me there with strangers. I ended up being held captive for a couple days, and on the second day the hoomins did something to me which I guess fixed whatever they thought was broken. Finally, on the third day MY hoomin came back and rescued me. I knew he was the one who had caught and taken me to the smelly place, but I decided to forgive him and do a little sucking up so that he would decide not to take me to wherever the barn way - if this was what was meant by "Fixing" I sure didn’t want to find out what he meant by becoming a barn cat. Sammy, one of the girl cats who lives with the hoomin, was actually pretty helpful telling me how to get the hoomin to let me become part of the family. Little Bit, Sammy’s mom, didn’t like me, and kept telling me how much fun I’d have as a barn cat. She didn’t fool me at all, though, so I followed Sammy’s advice. It worked, too, and when it came time for me to leave and go wherever barn cats go the hoomin had decided to let me stay. I wasn’t always to sure when Sammy told me how to get on the hoomin’s good side, but have learned that she’s a pretty smart little cat. Lots of things have changed since the hoomin decided I was part of the family. Guess the first thing was when I got a real hoomin name. Before the hoomin called me "the mostly white, black and white tom cat", or just Whitey, but once I became a family member he started calling me Rocky. I’ve learned a lot of other things, too. Once I became part of the family I started making strange sounds that the hoomin calls meows, and I started making a rumbling noise he calls purrs. After watching the other cats I decided to try jumping up on the hoomin’s lap for scritches, which is even better than head rubbing when I’m on the ground. And BRUSHING - it feels so GOOD when the hoomin strokes me with the brush. Once I was sure the hoomin wasn’t going to do anything that would hurt, Sammy introduced me to toys. I had pretty much forgotten how to play since it had been so long since I could really relax when I was living by my wits. Now I can relax and play, and playing is FUN. I’m still the king, just sort of semi-retired now. For some reason I’m not interested in girls anymore. I’m stay here at the hoomin’s place instead of wandering the neighborhood. I still get the respect of the other neighborhood cats, but seldom have to face a challenge and fight - in fact I haven’t had a real fight since I was fixed. Maybe that’s what they meant by getting fixed - if so it was worth it even if I was sort of scared at the time. It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it’s GREAT now. -- Steve Touchstone, faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky [remove Junk for email] Home Page: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html Cat Pix: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/animals.html |
#2
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On Wed, 08 Sep, Steve Touchstone wrote:
---------------------snip---------------------- It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it’s GREAT now. When I looked at the header and it said 234 lines I thought it might be slow reading. Just the opposite! I enjoyed reading about Rocky's journey from semi-feral to lap sitter very much. Thanks Steve! Regards and Purrs, O J |
#3
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On Wed, 08 Sep, Steve Touchstone wrote:
---------------------snip---------------------- It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it’s GREAT now. When I looked at the header and it said 234 lines I thought it might be slow reading. Just the opposite! I enjoyed reading about Rocky's journey from semi-feral to lap sitter very much. Thanks Steve! Regards and Purrs, O J |
#4
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On Wed, 08 Sep, Steve Touchstone wrote:
---------------------snip---------------------- It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it’s GREAT now. When I looked at the header and it said 234 lines I thought it might be slow reading. Just the opposite! I enjoyed reading about Rocky's journey from semi-feral to lap sitter very much. Thanks Steve! Regards and Purrs, O J |
#5
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Really heartwarming story, Steve. I loved it.
Christine "Steve Touchstone" wrote in message ... Sorry if anyone thinks this is too long. I broke it down into parts and seriously considered posting each part separately, but then decided that if I were one of those reading I'd rather get the whole story in one fell swoop. Anyway, there's Rocky's Story, from his viewpoint. Part One - I Become the King It's been a while now since I joined this here family, so I figured it was time to sit down and tell my story. I probably wouldn't bother, but the one the hoomin calls Sammy tells me both she and her momma, called Little Bit by the hoomin, have told their stories and that I should tell mine. I can't tell you much about my early years. Really have no idea how old I am. I know that the cold and hot times came several times. Momma taught me how to hunt for food, how to find cool spots when it was hot, and warm spots during the cold times. Momma taught me from an early age that hoomins weren't to be trusted. I figure she was right about most stuff, but lately I've found that at least SOME hoomins are OK. After I got bigger and momma and I got separated. I really don't know where she went. Things were pretty rough there for a while. All the older, bigger cats didn't want me around, so I got beat up until I learned how to fight and protect myself. After a couple more hot and cold times came and went, it got so that I was winning more fights than I was losing. Things were really starting to look up. I established my own little territory where I was the King. All the other cats in the neighborhood gave me the respect I deserved. When some young upstart gave me grief I'd either whip them into shape, or make life so miserable for them that they moved out of my kingdom. There were always hoomins around, but I avoided them as much as I could and didn't give them much thought. Part Two - Changes After living the good life for a couple more hot and cold times a couple things happened that changed my life. You see there was a group of hoomin dwellings in my kingdom where a brown-nosed tom cat used to hang around. I later learned he was what the hoomins call a tuxedo kitty. He had a white face and a black nose, but I always called him brown-nose because of how he was always cozying up to the hoomins. The hoomins called him Spot, though. He used to say he was the official apartment complex cat. It worked for him, he used to go inside the various hoomin houses to sleep at night, could got out of the worst weather, and get all the best food. The other thing that happened which ended up changing my life was that about this time a new hoomin moved into one of the hoomin houses. Eventually I'd end up trustung this particular hoomin and even let him pet me, but that was still in the future. The first thing about this new hoomin that changed my life was that when he learned about Spot he started putting food outside to encourage Spot to come eat at there, and sometimes spend the night sleeping on his bed. I couldn't have cared less about going into the hoomin's house, but the food he put out for Spot was GOOD, so I started eating it when the hoomin put it out. Life got even better. All us neighborhood cats had a new source of good food, which of course is always welcome when you're not sure when the next meal is coming. At first I ran and hid whenever I saw the hoomin, but over time I learned that he wouldn't throw things or chase me away. So, after a time I stopped running whenever I saw him. After a while I started going closer and waiting while he filled up the food bowl. I learned a startling fact, it actually feels nice when a hoomin scritches you in that certain spot that you just can't seem to reach behind your ear. Part Three - Betrayal and My First TED Visit Life was good. I had the occasional challenge to my rule of the kingdom, but still won all my fights. After one fight, though, I had a war wound to my front leg. It really hurt and just wouldn't heal right. The hoomin noticed that my leg was all swollen, about three times the size of the other one. He tried to touch it, but I wasn't about to put up with that so I hightailed it out of there and stayed away. After a couple days I was starting to get really hungry, so I decided to go back and see if he was still putting out food. When I got there the food bowl was full, and I was so hungry I let the hoomin take a close look. The next morning when I went back to eat the hoomin was there waiting. When I bent over the bowl he snatched me up and stuck me in a box. Next thing I knew he carried me over to one of those big moving monsters that the hoomins sit in and ride around in. The hoomin put me inside the monster and it made a lot of noise and we were moving. It didn't last long, and when we stopped the hoomin carried me inside a different hoomin places. The hoomin talked to some other hoomin, and then after waiting a while carried me to a smaller room where we waited again until another strange hoomin came. This was the worst hoomin yet, and I was really beginning to think my momma had been right when she told me not to trust these hoomins. This new hoomin looked at me through the bars on the box, and they opened the side of the box. I made a break for it, but there was no place to go. They threw something over me and held me so I couldn't bite or scratch them while this new hoomin poked and prodded me. It ended up with this new hoomin sticking me with something sharp, but it didn't hurt much. When they put the box with the bars on the table I decided it was a lot safer inside the box than outside where they could poke, prod and stab me with sharp sticks. So, when they loosened their grip a bit I darted back into that box. Turned out, though, that's what they wanted. The hoomins exchanged some of their strange noises, then the hoomin who had betrayed my trust picked up the box, and carried me back to the moving monster. After the strange moving feeling, the monster stopped and the hoomin carried me awhile. When he put down the box I found I was back where the adventure had started. The hoomin opened the side of the box, and I was OUT OF THERE. It may sound strange, but after the trip in the monster and having that strange hoomin stab me with the sharp stick, my leg stopped hurting and healed up a lot quicker than war wounds normally do. I stayed gone for several days before I went back to check for food, though. For a long time I didn't trust the hoomin and kept my distance. Eventually, I forgave him, after all he kept putting out food, and things went back to the way they were before. Part Four - Little Bit and Sammy Move In and Another TED Visit I was still the King, I lived the good life, and my sore leg was good as new. Sometime during this period Spot, the self proclaimed apartment cat, disappeared. I heard the hoomin say later that he had gotten himself locked inside one of those BIG moving monsters with some other hoomin's furniture and gone to someplace called California. Serves old brown nose right, but I hear he was happy as he stopped being an apartment cat and had his own family. Another cold time came and went. One of the neighborhood girls cats, called Little Bit, moved in with the hoomin, had some babies. She started living inside with the hoomin with Sammy, one of the babies. I started trusting the hoomin again, and even went inside the hoomin's apartment to eat sometimes, since the cats that now lived there seemed to get better food than what the hoomin put out for us neighborhood cats. Things were good, until another challenge came and I had to put another pipsqueak in his place. Once again I got one of those swollen leg wounds which just won't heal. The hoomin tried to stick me inside the box with bars, but I remembered from the other time and took off and stayed away for a couple days. Guess I was getting spoiled by the regular meals of good food, though, and it was hard to get enough to eat when it hurt to walk, so eventually I went back. Since it was so hard to walk with my wound, the hoomin managed to catch me and stick me in the box. It was pretty much a repeat of the first time - into the moving monster, back to the smelly hoomin place, stabbed by the strange hoomin, then coming back to where we had started from. I took off again as soon as the hoomin put down the box and opened the bars, but didn't stay away as long. You know, there may just something about that stick the strange hoomin stabs you with, because the swelling started going down again, and in no time the wound healed. Part Five - I Become Part of the Family and Get a Name Things went back to normal. More hot times followed by cold times came and went. Life was good. Then a time came when the hoomin started saying he might move, and he started asking me if I would want to move to some place and become something called a "barn cat". He said something about having something fixed before I became a barn cat. I really had no clue about what he was talking about. I tried to tell him I was the King, life was good, nothing needed fixing, and I had no intention of becoming a barn cat - whatever a barn cat was. One day when I went to eat he was waiting there with the bar-box. There was no way I was going to go into that thing, especially not this time as I didn't even have a sore leg. So I took off and stayed away for a few days. I checked a couple times, but he had stopped putting out food. Then, one day when I went back he opened the door and told me to come inside if I wanted to eat. By that time I was getting pretty hungry, so I went on inside. Turns out that was a BIG mistake, because as soon as I started eating he dropped something over me and before I could get away I was back inside that blasted bar-box and on the way to the monster. This time we ended up at a different smelly place, and the hoomin abandoned me and left me there with strangers. I ended up being held captive for a couple days, and on the second day the hoomins did something to me which I guess fixed whatever they thought was broken. Finally, on the third day MY hoomin came back and rescued me. I knew he was the one who had caught and taken me to the smelly place, but I decided to forgive him and do a little sucking up so that he would decide not to take me to wherever the barn way - if this was what was meant by "Fixing" I sure didn't want to find out what he meant by becoming a barn cat. Sammy, one of the girl cats who lives with the hoomin, was actually pretty helpful telling me how to get the hoomin to let me become part of the family. Little Bit, Sammy's mom, didn't like me, and kept telling me how much fun I'd have as a barn cat. She didn't fool me at all, though, so I followed Sammy's advice. It worked, too, and when it came time for me to leave and go wherever barn cats go the hoomin had decided to let me stay. I wasn't always to sure when Sammy told me how to get on the hoomin's good side, but have learned that she's a pretty smart little cat. Lots of things have changed since the hoomin decided I was part of the family. Guess the first thing was when I got a real hoomin name. Before the hoomin called me "the mostly white, black and white tom cat", or just Whitey, but once I became a family member he started calling me Rocky. I've learned a lot of other things, too. Once I became part of the family I started making strange sounds that the hoomin calls meows, and I started making a rumbling noise he calls purrs. After watching the other cats I decided to try jumping up on the hoomin's lap for scritches, which is even better than head rubbing when I'm on the ground. And BRUSHING - it feels so GOOD when the hoomin strokes me with the brush. Once I was sure the hoomin wasn't going to do anything that would hurt, Sammy introduced me to toys. I had pretty much forgotten how to play since it had been so long since I could really relax when I was living by my wits. Now I can relax and play, and playing is FUN. I'm still the king, just sort of semi-retired now. For some reason I'm not interested in girls anymore. I'm stay here at the hoomin's place instead of wandering the neighborhood. I still get the respect of the other neighborhood cats, but seldom have to face a challenge and fight - in fact I haven't had a real fight since I was fixed. Maybe that's what they meant by getting fixed - if so it was worth it even if I was sort of scared at the time. It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it's GREAT now. -- Steve Touchstone, faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky [remove Junk for email] Home Page: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html Cat Pix: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/animals.html |
#6
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Really heartwarming story, Steve. I loved it.
Christine "Steve Touchstone" wrote in message ... Sorry if anyone thinks this is too long. I broke it down into parts and seriously considered posting each part separately, but then decided that if I were one of those reading I'd rather get the whole story in one fell swoop. Anyway, there's Rocky's Story, from his viewpoint. Part One - I Become the King It's been a while now since I joined this here family, so I figured it was time to sit down and tell my story. I probably wouldn't bother, but the one the hoomin calls Sammy tells me both she and her momma, called Little Bit by the hoomin, have told their stories and that I should tell mine. I can't tell you much about my early years. Really have no idea how old I am. I know that the cold and hot times came several times. Momma taught me how to hunt for food, how to find cool spots when it was hot, and warm spots during the cold times. Momma taught me from an early age that hoomins weren't to be trusted. I figure she was right about most stuff, but lately I've found that at least SOME hoomins are OK. After I got bigger and momma and I got separated. I really don't know where she went. Things were pretty rough there for a while. All the older, bigger cats didn't want me around, so I got beat up until I learned how to fight and protect myself. After a couple more hot and cold times came and went, it got so that I was winning more fights than I was losing. Things were really starting to look up. I established my own little territory where I was the King. All the other cats in the neighborhood gave me the respect I deserved. When some young upstart gave me grief I'd either whip them into shape, or make life so miserable for them that they moved out of my kingdom. There were always hoomins around, but I avoided them as much as I could and didn't give them much thought. Part Two - Changes After living the good life for a couple more hot and cold times a couple things happened that changed my life. You see there was a group of hoomin dwellings in my kingdom where a brown-nosed tom cat used to hang around. I later learned he was what the hoomins call a tuxedo kitty. He had a white face and a black nose, but I always called him brown-nose because of how he was always cozying up to the hoomins. The hoomins called him Spot, though. He used to say he was the official apartment complex cat. It worked for him, he used to go inside the various hoomin houses to sleep at night, could got out of the worst weather, and get all the best food. The other thing that happened which ended up changing my life was that about this time a new hoomin moved into one of the hoomin houses. Eventually I'd end up trustung this particular hoomin and even let him pet me, but that was still in the future. The first thing about this new hoomin that changed my life was that when he learned about Spot he started putting food outside to encourage Spot to come eat at there, and sometimes spend the night sleeping on his bed. I couldn't have cared less about going into the hoomin's house, but the food he put out for Spot was GOOD, so I started eating it when the hoomin put it out. Life got even better. All us neighborhood cats had a new source of good food, which of course is always welcome when you're not sure when the next meal is coming. At first I ran and hid whenever I saw the hoomin, but over time I learned that he wouldn't throw things or chase me away. So, after a time I stopped running whenever I saw him. After a while I started going closer and waiting while he filled up the food bowl. I learned a startling fact, it actually feels nice when a hoomin scritches you in that certain spot that you just can't seem to reach behind your ear. Part Three - Betrayal and My First TED Visit Life was good. I had the occasional challenge to my rule of the kingdom, but still won all my fights. After one fight, though, I had a war wound to my front leg. It really hurt and just wouldn't heal right. The hoomin noticed that my leg was all swollen, about three times the size of the other one. He tried to touch it, but I wasn't about to put up with that so I hightailed it out of there and stayed away. After a couple days I was starting to get really hungry, so I decided to go back and see if he was still putting out food. When I got there the food bowl was full, and I was so hungry I let the hoomin take a close look. The next morning when I went back to eat the hoomin was there waiting. When I bent over the bowl he snatched me up and stuck me in a box. Next thing I knew he carried me over to one of those big moving monsters that the hoomins sit in and ride around in. The hoomin put me inside the monster and it made a lot of noise and we were moving. It didn't last long, and when we stopped the hoomin carried me inside a different hoomin places. The hoomin talked to some other hoomin, and then after waiting a while carried me to a smaller room where we waited again until another strange hoomin came. This was the worst hoomin yet, and I was really beginning to think my momma had been right when she told me not to trust these hoomins. This new hoomin looked at me through the bars on the box, and they opened the side of the box. I made a break for it, but there was no place to go. They threw something over me and held me so I couldn't bite or scratch them while this new hoomin poked and prodded me. It ended up with this new hoomin sticking me with something sharp, but it didn't hurt much. When they put the box with the bars on the table I decided it was a lot safer inside the box than outside where they could poke, prod and stab me with sharp sticks. So, when they loosened their grip a bit I darted back into that box. Turned out, though, that's what they wanted. The hoomins exchanged some of their strange noises, then the hoomin who had betrayed my trust picked up the box, and carried me back to the moving monster. After the strange moving feeling, the monster stopped and the hoomin carried me awhile. When he put down the box I found I was back where the adventure had started. The hoomin opened the side of the box, and I was OUT OF THERE. It may sound strange, but after the trip in the monster and having that strange hoomin stab me with the sharp stick, my leg stopped hurting and healed up a lot quicker than war wounds normally do. I stayed gone for several days before I went back to check for food, though. For a long time I didn't trust the hoomin and kept my distance. Eventually, I forgave him, after all he kept putting out food, and things went back to the way they were before. Part Four - Little Bit and Sammy Move In and Another TED Visit I was still the King, I lived the good life, and my sore leg was good as new. Sometime during this period Spot, the self proclaimed apartment cat, disappeared. I heard the hoomin say later that he had gotten himself locked inside one of those BIG moving monsters with some other hoomin's furniture and gone to someplace called California. Serves old brown nose right, but I hear he was happy as he stopped being an apartment cat and had his own family. Another cold time came and went. One of the neighborhood girls cats, called Little Bit, moved in with the hoomin, had some babies. She started living inside with the hoomin with Sammy, one of the babies. I started trusting the hoomin again, and even went inside the hoomin's apartment to eat sometimes, since the cats that now lived there seemed to get better food than what the hoomin put out for us neighborhood cats. Things were good, until another challenge came and I had to put another pipsqueak in his place. Once again I got one of those swollen leg wounds which just won't heal. The hoomin tried to stick me inside the box with bars, but I remembered from the other time and took off and stayed away for a couple days. Guess I was getting spoiled by the regular meals of good food, though, and it was hard to get enough to eat when it hurt to walk, so eventually I went back. Since it was so hard to walk with my wound, the hoomin managed to catch me and stick me in the box. It was pretty much a repeat of the first time - into the moving monster, back to the smelly hoomin place, stabbed by the strange hoomin, then coming back to where we had started from. I took off again as soon as the hoomin put down the box and opened the bars, but didn't stay away as long. You know, there may just something about that stick the strange hoomin stabs you with, because the swelling started going down again, and in no time the wound healed. Part Five - I Become Part of the Family and Get a Name Things went back to normal. More hot times followed by cold times came and went. Life was good. Then a time came when the hoomin started saying he might move, and he started asking me if I would want to move to some place and become something called a "barn cat". He said something about having something fixed before I became a barn cat. I really had no clue about what he was talking about. I tried to tell him I was the King, life was good, nothing needed fixing, and I had no intention of becoming a barn cat - whatever a barn cat was. One day when I went to eat he was waiting there with the bar-box. There was no way I was going to go into that thing, especially not this time as I didn't even have a sore leg. So I took off and stayed away for a few days. I checked a couple times, but he had stopped putting out food. Then, one day when I went back he opened the door and told me to come inside if I wanted to eat. By that time I was getting pretty hungry, so I went on inside. Turns out that was a BIG mistake, because as soon as I started eating he dropped something over me and before I could get away I was back inside that blasted bar-box and on the way to the monster. This time we ended up at a different smelly place, and the hoomin abandoned me and left me there with strangers. I ended up being held captive for a couple days, and on the second day the hoomins did something to me which I guess fixed whatever they thought was broken. Finally, on the third day MY hoomin came back and rescued me. I knew he was the one who had caught and taken me to the smelly place, but I decided to forgive him and do a little sucking up so that he would decide not to take me to wherever the barn way - if this was what was meant by "Fixing" I sure didn't want to find out what he meant by becoming a barn cat. Sammy, one of the girl cats who lives with the hoomin, was actually pretty helpful telling me how to get the hoomin to let me become part of the family. Little Bit, Sammy's mom, didn't like me, and kept telling me how much fun I'd have as a barn cat. She didn't fool me at all, though, so I followed Sammy's advice. It worked, too, and when it came time for me to leave and go wherever barn cats go the hoomin had decided to let me stay. I wasn't always to sure when Sammy told me how to get on the hoomin's good side, but have learned that she's a pretty smart little cat. Lots of things have changed since the hoomin decided I was part of the family. Guess the first thing was when I got a real hoomin name. Before the hoomin called me "the mostly white, black and white tom cat", or just Whitey, but once I became a family member he started calling me Rocky. I've learned a lot of other things, too. Once I became part of the family I started making strange sounds that the hoomin calls meows, and I started making a rumbling noise he calls purrs. After watching the other cats I decided to try jumping up on the hoomin's lap for scritches, which is even better than head rubbing when I'm on the ground. And BRUSHING - it feels so GOOD when the hoomin strokes me with the brush. Once I was sure the hoomin wasn't going to do anything that would hurt, Sammy introduced me to toys. I had pretty much forgotten how to play since it had been so long since I could really relax when I was living by my wits. Now I can relax and play, and playing is FUN. I'm still the king, just sort of semi-retired now. For some reason I'm not interested in girls anymore. I'm stay here at the hoomin's place instead of wandering the neighborhood. I still get the respect of the other neighborhood cats, but seldom have to face a challenge and fight - in fact I haven't had a real fight since I was fixed. Maybe that's what they meant by getting fixed - if so it was worth it even if I was sort of scared at the time. It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it's GREAT now. -- Steve Touchstone, faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky [remove Junk for email] Home Page: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html Cat Pix: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/animals.html |
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Really heartwarming story, Steve. I loved it.
Christine "Steve Touchstone" wrote in message ... Sorry if anyone thinks this is too long. I broke it down into parts and seriously considered posting each part separately, but then decided that if I were one of those reading I'd rather get the whole story in one fell swoop. Anyway, there's Rocky's Story, from his viewpoint. Part One - I Become the King It's been a while now since I joined this here family, so I figured it was time to sit down and tell my story. I probably wouldn't bother, but the one the hoomin calls Sammy tells me both she and her momma, called Little Bit by the hoomin, have told their stories and that I should tell mine. I can't tell you much about my early years. Really have no idea how old I am. I know that the cold and hot times came several times. Momma taught me how to hunt for food, how to find cool spots when it was hot, and warm spots during the cold times. Momma taught me from an early age that hoomins weren't to be trusted. I figure she was right about most stuff, but lately I've found that at least SOME hoomins are OK. After I got bigger and momma and I got separated. I really don't know where she went. Things were pretty rough there for a while. All the older, bigger cats didn't want me around, so I got beat up until I learned how to fight and protect myself. After a couple more hot and cold times came and went, it got so that I was winning more fights than I was losing. Things were really starting to look up. I established my own little territory where I was the King. All the other cats in the neighborhood gave me the respect I deserved. When some young upstart gave me grief I'd either whip them into shape, or make life so miserable for them that they moved out of my kingdom. There were always hoomins around, but I avoided them as much as I could and didn't give them much thought. Part Two - Changes After living the good life for a couple more hot and cold times a couple things happened that changed my life. You see there was a group of hoomin dwellings in my kingdom where a brown-nosed tom cat used to hang around. I later learned he was what the hoomins call a tuxedo kitty. He had a white face and a black nose, but I always called him brown-nose because of how he was always cozying up to the hoomins. The hoomins called him Spot, though. He used to say he was the official apartment complex cat. It worked for him, he used to go inside the various hoomin houses to sleep at night, could got out of the worst weather, and get all the best food. The other thing that happened which ended up changing my life was that about this time a new hoomin moved into one of the hoomin houses. Eventually I'd end up trustung this particular hoomin and even let him pet me, but that was still in the future. The first thing about this new hoomin that changed my life was that when he learned about Spot he started putting food outside to encourage Spot to come eat at there, and sometimes spend the night sleeping on his bed. I couldn't have cared less about going into the hoomin's house, but the food he put out for Spot was GOOD, so I started eating it when the hoomin put it out. Life got even better. All us neighborhood cats had a new source of good food, which of course is always welcome when you're not sure when the next meal is coming. At first I ran and hid whenever I saw the hoomin, but over time I learned that he wouldn't throw things or chase me away. So, after a time I stopped running whenever I saw him. After a while I started going closer and waiting while he filled up the food bowl. I learned a startling fact, it actually feels nice when a hoomin scritches you in that certain spot that you just can't seem to reach behind your ear. Part Three - Betrayal and My First TED Visit Life was good. I had the occasional challenge to my rule of the kingdom, but still won all my fights. After one fight, though, I had a war wound to my front leg. It really hurt and just wouldn't heal right. The hoomin noticed that my leg was all swollen, about three times the size of the other one. He tried to touch it, but I wasn't about to put up with that so I hightailed it out of there and stayed away. After a couple days I was starting to get really hungry, so I decided to go back and see if he was still putting out food. When I got there the food bowl was full, and I was so hungry I let the hoomin take a close look. The next morning when I went back to eat the hoomin was there waiting. When I bent over the bowl he snatched me up and stuck me in a box. Next thing I knew he carried me over to one of those big moving monsters that the hoomins sit in and ride around in. The hoomin put me inside the monster and it made a lot of noise and we were moving. It didn't last long, and when we stopped the hoomin carried me inside a different hoomin places. The hoomin talked to some other hoomin, and then after waiting a while carried me to a smaller room where we waited again until another strange hoomin came. This was the worst hoomin yet, and I was really beginning to think my momma had been right when she told me not to trust these hoomins. This new hoomin looked at me through the bars on the box, and they opened the side of the box. I made a break for it, but there was no place to go. They threw something over me and held me so I couldn't bite or scratch them while this new hoomin poked and prodded me. It ended up with this new hoomin sticking me with something sharp, but it didn't hurt much. When they put the box with the bars on the table I decided it was a lot safer inside the box than outside where they could poke, prod and stab me with sharp sticks. So, when they loosened their grip a bit I darted back into that box. Turned out, though, that's what they wanted. The hoomins exchanged some of their strange noises, then the hoomin who had betrayed my trust picked up the box, and carried me back to the moving monster. After the strange moving feeling, the monster stopped and the hoomin carried me awhile. When he put down the box I found I was back where the adventure had started. The hoomin opened the side of the box, and I was OUT OF THERE. It may sound strange, but after the trip in the monster and having that strange hoomin stab me with the sharp stick, my leg stopped hurting and healed up a lot quicker than war wounds normally do. I stayed gone for several days before I went back to check for food, though. For a long time I didn't trust the hoomin and kept my distance. Eventually, I forgave him, after all he kept putting out food, and things went back to the way they were before. Part Four - Little Bit and Sammy Move In and Another TED Visit I was still the King, I lived the good life, and my sore leg was good as new. Sometime during this period Spot, the self proclaimed apartment cat, disappeared. I heard the hoomin say later that he had gotten himself locked inside one of those BIG moving monsters with some other hoomin's furniture and gone to someplace called California. Serves old brown nose right, but I hear he was happy as he stopped being an apartment cat and had his own family. Another cold time came and went. One of the neighborhood girls cats, called Little Bit, moved in with the hoomin, had some babies. She started living inside with the hoomin with Sammy, one of the babies. I started trusting the hoomin again, and even went inside the hoomin's apartment to eat sometimes, since the cats that now lived there seemed to get better food than what the hoomin put out for us neighborhood cats. Things were good, until another challenge came and I had to put another pipsqueak in his place. Once again I got one of those swollen leg wounds which just won't heal. The hoomin tried to stick me inside the box with bars, but I remembered from the other time and took off and stayed away for a couple days. Guess I was getting spoiled by the regular meals of good food, though, and it was hard to get enough to eat when it hurt to walk, so eventually I went back. Since it was so hard to walk with my wound, the hoomin managed to catch me and stick me in the box. It was pretty much a repeat of the first time - into the moving monster, back to the smelly hoomin place, stabbed by the strange hoomin, then coming back to where we had started from. I took off again as soon as the hoomin put down the box and opened the bars, but didn't stay away as long. You know, there may just something about that stick the strange hoomin stabs you with, because the swelling started going down again, and in no time the wound healed. Part Five - I Become Part of the Family and Get a Name Things went back to normal. More hot times followed by cold times came and went. Life was good. Then a time came when the hoomin started saying he might move, and he started asking me if I would want to move to some place and become something called a "barn cat". He said something about having something fixed before I became a barn cat. I really had no clue about what he was talking about. I tried to tell him I was the King, life was good, nothing needed fixing, and I had no intention of becoming a barn cat - whatever a barn cat was. One day when I went to eat he was waiting there with the bar-box. There was no way I was going to go into that thing, especially not this time as I didn't even have a sore leg. So I took off and stayed away for a few days. I checked a couple times, but he had stopped putting out food. Then, one day when I went back he opened the door and told me to come inside if I wanted to eat. By that time I was getting pretty hungry, so I went on inside. Turns out that was a BIG mistake, because as soon as I started eating he dropped something over me and before I could get away I was back inside that blasted bar-box and on the way to the monster. This time we ended up at a different smelly place, and the hoomin abandoned me and left me there with strangers. I ended up being held captive for a couple days, and on the second day the hoomins did something to me which I guess fixed whatever they thought was broken. Finally, on the third day MY hoomin came back and rescued me. I knew he was the one who had caught and taken me to the smelly place, but I decided to forgive him and do a little sucking up so that he would decide not to take me to wherever the barn way - if this was what was meant by "Fixing" I sure didn't want to find out what he meant by becoming a barn cat. Sammy, one of the girl cats who lives with the hoomin, was actually pretty helpful telling me how to get the hoomin to let me become part of the family. Little Bit, Sammy's mom, didn't like me, and kept telling me how much fun I'd have as a barn cat. She didn't fool me at all, though, so I followed Sammy's advice. It worked, too, and when it came time for me to leave and go wherever barn cats go the hoomin had decided to let me stay. I wasn't always to sure when Sammy told me how to get on the hoomin's good side, but have learned that she's a pretty smart little cat. Lots of things have changed since the hoomin decided I was part of the family. Guess the first thing was when I got a real hoomin name. Before the hoomin called me "the mostly white, black and white tom cat", or just Whitey, but once I became a family member he started calling me Rocky. I've learned a lot of other things, too. Once I became part of the family I started making strange sounds that the hoomin calls meows, and I started making a rumbling noise he calls purrs. After watching the other cats I decided to try jumping up on the hoomin's lap for scritches, which is even better than head rubbing when I'm on the ground. And BRUSHING - it feels so GOOD when the hoomin strokes me with the brush. Once I was sure the hoomin wasn't going to do anything that would hurt, Sammy introduced me to toys. I had pretty much forgotten how to play since it had been so long since I could really relax when I was living by my wits. Now I can relax and play, and playing is FUN. I'm still the king, just sort of semi-retired now. For some reason I'm not interested in girls anymore. I'm stay here at the hoomin's place instead of wandering the neighborhood. I still get the respect of the other neighborhood cats, but seldom have to face a challenge and fight - in fact I haven't had a real fight since I was fixed. Maybe that's what they meant by getting fixed - if so it was worth it even if I was sort of scared at the time. It may sound sort of corny, but it feels pretty darned good to have a hoomin name and a hoomin family. If life was good before, it's GREAT now. -- Steve Touchstone, faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky [remove Junk for email] Home Page: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html Cat Pix: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/animals.html |
#8
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"Steve Touchstone" wrote in message
... snip a great story Thank you Steve, that was so touching - you're a really wonderful guy! Hugs, CatNipped |
#9
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"Steve Touchstone" wrote in message
... snip a great story Thank you Steve, that was so touching - you're a really wonderful guy! Hugs, CatNipped |
#10
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"Steve Touchstone" wrote in message
... snip a great story Thank you Steve, that was so touching - you're a really wonderful guy! Hugs, CatNipped |
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Rocky's new milestone | Steve Touchstone | Cat anecdotes | 4 | November 16th 03 08:54 PM |