Feeling Nostalgic... hope you don't mind :)

Back when I was 15, I lived in a house on the corner with a strip of woods
across the street. There was a stray cat that would come over to the house.
I'd sit out on the driveway in the evenings and this grey striped tabby (I
called her Baby) would come up and want to be patted and played with. She
was probably about a year old. When it got late and I had to go inside,
Baby would wind herself around my legs and try to trip me to keep me from
leaving her. She was so sweet!

But my Dad would not allow me to have a cat. He said he hated cats. The
only pets I was allowed to have were birds and a fish. So, sadly, I would
leave Baby outside and hope she came back the next night. She always did.

One night, Baby didn't come back. And she didn't come back for weeks. But
the next time she did, it was apparent she'd had kittens. She had heavy
teats and while she was just as friendly, she was also in a rush to get back
to the strip of woods across the street. I always wondered what happened to
Baby and her kits; I never saw her again after that. It was like she was
saying goodbye.

At the front of my parents house was a bricked in patio. And there were
holes in the bricks at the base of the wall for drainage. (It rains a lot
in Memphis.) Several years after Baby stopped visiting I was sitting
outside on the steps with my mom. She and I both saw some critter out of
the corner of our eyes on the patio. Since this area is full of toads, we
thought perhaps it was a toad. Thought nothing more of it... until a couple
of nights later... then we saw it!

It was a tiny rabbit! Teensy thing, about the size of a hamster with a
little cotton-ball tail. It had made a home inside the bricks where the
drainage hole was. Mom and I started putting out lettuce and carrots for
it. We had to hide this from my Dad because we were afraid of his reaction.

Well, one day I was standing at the front window looking out at the rabbit.
Dad said gruffly, "What the Hell do you keep looking at out there?" Uh Oh.
Okay, Dad, come over here, slowly. He grumbled, "It better not be a damned
cat!" "SHHHHH! It's not a cat. Don't scare her!"

He looked out the window and saw that teensy rabbit and he melted. He said,
"Awww, it's a baby bunny!"

Eventually the rabbit outgrew the hole in the bricks and went on to live
whatever life wild rabbits live. (Makes me think of 'Watership Down'.)

I'll never forget the look on my dad's face or the sound of his voice when
he spotted the rabbit and for a moment turned into a 9 year old boy again

Jill

What a lovely story, Jill! Thank you.

--
Marina

Lovely, Jill. Thank you!
Christine
"jmcquown" wrote in message
...
Back when I was 15, I lived in a house on the corner with a strip of woods
across the street. There was a stray cat that would come over to the
house.
I'd sit out on the driveway in the evenings and this grey striped tabby (I
called her Baby) would come up and want to be patted and played with. She
was probably about a year old. When it got late and I had to go inside,
Baby would wind herself around my legs and try to trip me to keep me from
leaving her. She was so sweet!

But my Dad would not allow me to have a cat. He said he hated cats. The
only pets I was allowed to have were birds and a fish. So, sadly, I would
leave Baby outside and hope she came back the next night. She always did.

One night, Baby didn't come back. And she didn't come back for weeks.
But
the next time she did, it was apparent she'd had kittens. She had heavy
teats and while she was just as friendly, she was also in a rush to get
back
to the strip of woods across the street. I always wondered what happened
to
Baby and her kits; I never saw her again after that. It was like she was
saying goodbye.

At the front of my parents house was a bricked in patio. And there were
holes in the bricks at the base of the wall for drainage. (It rains a lot
in Memphis.) Several years after Baby stopped visiting I was sitting
outside on the steps with my mom. She and I both saw some critter out of
the corner of our eyes on the patio. Since this area is full of toads, we
thought perhaps it was a toad. Thought nothing more of it... until a
couple
of nights later... then we saw it!

It was a tiny rabbit! Teensy thing, about the size of a hamster with a
little cotton-ball tail. It had made a home inside the bricks where the
drainage hole was. Mom and I started putting out lettuce and carrots for
it. We had to hide this from my Dad because we were afraid of his
reaction.

Well, one day I was standing at the front window looking out at the
rabbit.
Dad said gruffly, "What the Hell do you keep looking at out there?" Uh
Oh.
Okay, Dad, come over here, slowly. He grumbled, "It better not be a
damned
cat!" "SHHHHH! It's not a cat. Don't scare her!"

He looked out the window and saw that teensy rabbit and he melted. He
said,
"Awww, it's a baby bunny!"

Eventually the rabbit outgrew the hole in the bricks and went on to live
whatever life wild rabbits live. (Makes me think of 'Watership Down'.)

I'll never forget the look on my dad's face or the sound of his voice when
he spotted the rabbit and for a moment turned into a 9 year old boy again


Jill

That's a cute story. My dad wouldn't let us have cats in the house, either. We
still had the barn cats though. He still disapproves of animals in the house!
For some reason my cats know this, and they swarm him when he comes, jumping up
on the chair, etc. He gets this "look" that I know very well, but doesn't say a
word anymore.

Sherry

in article , Sherry at
itty wrote on 12/21/03 8:25 AM:

That's a cute story. My dad wouldn't let us have cats in the house, either. We
still had the barn cats though. He still disapproves of animals in the house!
For some reason my cats know this, and they swarm him when he comes, jumping
up
on the chair, etc. He gets this "look" that I know very well, but doesn't say
a
word anymore.

Sherry

heh. The cats know. My sister dated a guy that "hated" cats. They always
swarmed him. By the time they graduated and he went to Naval dental school,
he was a convert and got two of his own!

My dad always used to complain about the cats (we had at least 6 usually),
but he shared his cheese at night with them and brushed them, built them
furniture and carpeted a wall for their entertainment. I have to say, he
wasn't attached in the same way as the rest of us, but he sure did like
them. My mom always tells the tale from when they lived on base (before
kids) and a long haired stray showed up. He worked on this cat's coat every
night brushing and snipping until it was pretty again and then it never came
back. My guess is someone actually took it in at that point. Boy, he was
mad. Dads are so funny.

Karen

I hope they all found their onetruehome.
Best wishes,
--
Polonca & Soncek

"jmcquown" wrote in message
...
Back when I was 15, I lived in a house on the corner with a strip of woods
across the street. There was a stray cat that would come over to the
house.
snip

jmcquown wrote in on 21
Dec 2003:


I'll never forget the look on my dad's face or the sound of his voice
when he spotted the rabbit and for a moment turned into a 9 year old
boy again

Great story. Thanks for sharing.

--
Cheryl

"I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I
can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do."
- Helen Keller

jmcquown saw Sally selling seashells by the seashore and told us all
about it on Sun, 21 Dec 2003 02:11:17 -0600:

That's very sweet Jill... thanks for sharing

--

Karen AKA Kajikit

Here kitty kitty kitty... visit http://www.catslaves.org!

Come and visit my part of the web:
Kajikit's Corner: http://www.kajikitscorner.com
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On Sun, 21 Dec 2003 21:20:45 GMT, wrote:

Karen wrote:

My dad always used to complain about the cats (we had at least 6 usually),
but he shared his cheese at night with them and brushed them, built them
furniture and carpeted a wall for their entertainment. I have to say, he
wasn't attached in the same way as the rest of us, but he sure did like
them.

Wow, I guess so!! Definitely a softie underneath all that attitude, huh?

Joyce

Yeah, my Dad also claimed to dislike the pets we had growing up. For
some reason, though, whenever Bobo, a dashcund, came inside he ended
up in Dad's lap. Once in Dad's lap Bobo stayed there for a couple
hours ;-)
--
Steve Touchstone,
faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky

[remove Junk for email]
http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html

Reading everyone's posts here, I see that I was very lucky. My Dad was crazy
about cats, and wasn't afraid of showing it. My Mum wasn't as into cats as
he was, but she did end up taking care of them, because Dad travelled a lot.
She is very fond of all her eight Grandcats now, and looks after them if one
of us has to leave town.

--
Marina, Frank and Nikki
Email marina (dot) kurten (at) pp (dot) inet (dot) fi
Pics at http://uk.f1.pg.photos.yahoo.com/frankiennikki