Christopher

This beautiful black cat came to my four-legged family as a nine month old starving kitten. He actually went next door to my neighbour's. She called me (they all call me, right?) and asked what to do - there was this cat trying to get into their house. A friend had told them it was probably rabid and not to go near it.

So I went to see what was what. When I called "Kit kit kit!" around the corner this skinny black bit of fur came racing. I picked it up. One of it's paws was cut slightly, we found out that it had been in the rose bushes near the house, trying to stay warm I guess.

The kitten purred and purred. I put it in a crate and brought it home, putting it in the drive shed with some food and water. I didn't want to bring it in the house because I already had two cats and obviously this wee guy hadn't been given shots or much of anything.

That night my neighbour decided to keep it warm inside their home. In the basement.

She called me an hour after I delivered the crate and kitten. The kitten was now sitting on her husband's lap upstairs, curled up and watching tv...Made me chuckle, made her chuckle too. This kitten was going to win everyone's heart it seemed.

So my neighbour and I spent the better part of a day trying to find a home for the kitten. Obviously we were unsuccessful.

I took the wee mite to the vet, having finally given in to the idea of keeping it. My neighbour couldn't do so, though she still adores him and looks on the cat as her "step-cat." She was the one who gave him his name - Christopher because it was close to Christmas. The vet gave the little fellow a good going over and said that he would likely have died if he had stayed out in the wild one more day. He was starving and just barely five pounds when he should have been about eight or nine.

You can see from the picture he certainly isn't starving any longer.

Most of the photographs I have of Christopher are of him lounging on the stairs, a chair, the deck, the deck chairs, my bed, somewhere not being very busy. He is however one of the best mousers I've ever had. He had three teeth removed a year ago, including his two upper "fangs" because they'd become infected and rotten, yet I find him still coming to the door with a huge mole, mouse or vole dangling, quite dead, from his mouth. When I don't let him in, he proceeds to devour his meal.

Since that's not really one of my favourite sights in nature, I usually don't watch. The dogs on the other hand keep an envious eye on their buddy. They check later to see if he's left any scraps. He never has. He also loves to go for walks, but my former dog companions allowed him to come along, Bliss and Spirit let him go to the edge of the pasture, then he must climb on something like a rock or a fence rail, for them to leave him alone, otherwise the chase is on. They would never hurt him, but they chase anything that moves.

Christopher is the guard cat. He keeps the dogs in line. Spirit will not come into the house or pass by him if Christopher stands in the doorway. The dogs' brother and litter mate lives two doors away. He is terrified of Christopher who walks up to the him and sticks out a paw, claws extended. That dog scuttles backward quickly. Christopher mews in satisfaction. He did that this morning - told the dogs all to mind their manners.

So today while it's trying to decide whether to remain sunny with incredibly high winds, or to snow again - (a snow squall hid the drive shed from me an hour ago) - I thought it would be a good day to share this wonderful cat's story. He sleeps on my bed most nights, giving a little mew of hello when he hops up. He loves to sit on my lap, purring mightily, and share any food he thinks he might like - particularly breakfast if there is yogurt involved.... sweet yogurt that is - he turns up his nose at the plain stuff... silly boy. He has been a most welcome addition to this family.

I hope you can enjoy the antics of a dear pet or a friend - something or someone to make you smile today. Christopher has made me smile several times this morning as he told the dogs off when they all went outside to greet the day. When they came back to enjoy breakfast he checked their dishes hopefully to see if there were scraps left for him. Not a whisker - but he'll not stop hoping. He's that kind of cat.