Tigger cat was a gift for Ken’s birthday. My sister, brother-in-law and mom brought her over on the ferry. We were not really looking for a cat but Tigger was looking for a home so here she was.
She spent her first few days under the couch and we wondered what kind of farm cat she would turn out to be. I have a loathing for the whole idea of kitty litter cat toilet in the house smell of cat food and being awakened in the night to let a cat in or out. So Ken fixed up a kitty boudoir in the storage shed. Nice soft bed, window view, heating pad in winter, scented litter box, food bowls, a perfect cat house in the woods.
She was going to be an indoor cat because she wasn’t used to woods or wild animals but an open window was too much temptation one day and out she went. And in she came again. So that escape hatch was usually left open until she decided a gift of a mouse in the house was a good idea. Then opening and closing the window to let her in and out became a full-time job for Ken.
Soon she was in the bedroom, just the foot of the bed, mind you, where she slept most afternoons until time to go out and in and out again. It was one of these out excursions that she was taken to dinner by the local coyote pack and that’s the last we’ve seen of poor Tigger.
She was a great farm cat, talkative companion, funny performer and a large, warm fuzzy presence which we all miss every day.
©2014 Sharron R. McMillan