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Some True Cat Tales

September 10, 2022

Another Way for week of September 2, 2022

Some True Cat Tales

So, if you’re not a cat person, you may want to skip this and read about the weather. Or something.

But I loved the picture a friend painted of her two cats recently. Not literally, but she lives alone and is very fond of them, whose names I’m forgetting. Recently Glenda has been struggling with her 14-year-old feline who was fighting her as she attempted to give him his antibiotic for an ear infection. She showed me the bruises and scars on her arms—she is probably fifteen or so years older than me and as we age, such things show up so prominently.

My friend needs a suit of armor with her cat.

The cat resists the medicine of course and since this friend lives alone, she has a hard time holding the cat wrapped in a towel in one arm, opening his mouth and inserting the medicine without him biting her and trying to get away. Yeah. Sounds like an armful. But her other cat makes up for it right now, who jumps in her lap and gently puts both paws on Glenda’s face: “It’s like she’s giving me a hug,” Glenda smiled. “And then she licks my face.” That part is not for me, but she loves it and I’m sure she finds great company with these cats—unless there is medicine involved!

It made me think of one time when my husband and I were just dating and he came down with flu. He was feeling lousy. He lived by himself in a small mobile home. At the time he had a huge male cat, Tanjo, who could be as fierce as the cat in the story I just related.

So I made some soup or something and took it over to Stuart’s trailer and knocked on his door. He called “Come in,” but when I opened the door, Tanjo instantly dashed to the door hissing, not about to let me enter. I slammed the door, scared! Tanjo did calm down, and looking back, he was probably just trying to protect his owner who was sick. Tanjo and I eventually made friends. [Sorry to say, we have no photos of the actual Tanjo.]

Stuart’s male cat after Tanjo was this guy he named Caesar.

When our daughters were small, they all loved cats, especially baby kittens. So for a period of years, we had cats who spawned litters (I know, shame on us for not spaying them right away), but we were always able to find homes for the baby kittens when we advertised.

Boots, cuddling in blankets, was one of the kittens birthed by the mother, Shelly, standing. Michelle adopted Boots until the beloved Boots had cancer and she had to be put to sleep.

Eventually our daughters settled on one favorite cat each; my oldest daughter Michelle became very attached to one she named Boots. Boots was a calico cat and very loving and gentle, especially with Michelle.

An early computer where of course Boots loved to distract Michelle from her homework.

Our middle daughter, Tanya, claimed a beautiful sealpoint cat, Bubbles. She had beige fur and black ears and looked almost Siamese, but with a better disposition.

Bubbles: How can you resist a cat that looks like me??

Doreen’s favorite cat came much later when she was living with us after college and working at a bank. A friend of hers knew of an orphaned kitten that Doreen brought home and fed from a dropper. Doreen named her Paisley. When Doreen moved to another state to pursue a master’s degree, Paisley claimed my husband as her favorite, and loved riding around on his shoulder.

Paisley meets Riley.

My true love in cats was a male cat named Riley, who also needed a home. He was about eight when we got him and I fell in love at first look: long white fur, beautiful blue eyes, and a gentle and loving disposition.

He was amazing but we couldn’t let him outside because the previous owner had him declawed. Late in his life and with health failing, we left him pad about the backyard one evening for fresh air.

Riley on one of his final walkabouts. Our dog Velvet (laying in the background).
The neighbor’s dog is peacefully next to Riley. We were astonished.

To my husband’s amazement, a neighboring dog who was visiting, completely held back and didn’t even try to chase him. Soon after that sweet Riley died at home from old age.

Don’t I pose well?

Those are my cat stories! I understand National Cat Day is October 29: not in celebration of Halloween, but as a reminder of so many cats needing homes—and a reminder for owners to get them spayed.

God surely enjoyed all the world’s amazing creatures!


I’d love to hear your cat or dog stories!

Or maybe your offspring wanted to have hamsters or fish or gerbils in their rooms. That’s fun too, ha! Getting up in the middle of the night to search for a missing hamster?? Your story?

Comment here or write to me at or Another Way Media, P.O. Box 363, Singers Glen, VA 22834.

Another Way is a column by Melodie Davis, in syndication since 1987. She is the author of ten books. Another Way columns are posted at a week after newspaper publication. 

  1. I like cat stories, but I can’t abide cats in the house as I’m highly allergic to cat dander. So is my husband, so we are well-matched in that regard tool

    The cat cartoon is cute, and the story of your “ministering” to your boyfriend with a cat as sentry is sweet. I made my husband (then boyfriend) a bathrobe when he was freezing in an apartment he and his student friends were renting. They couldn’t afford heat, so making the robe was my effort to help the situation and show I really cared for him.

    Some time ago I wrote about taking care of my daughter’s cats. You read all of my posts, so you probably read this one:

    Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Melodie! 😀

    • I was again amused by the way you took pictures to make sure you remembered which cat got what etc. I find it very difficult to keep track of such things. And P.S.: in my calculation, a homemade bathrobe by a girlfriend tops a bowl of soup by a girlfriend: Stuart would have been astonished at that point in our early relationship if I had shown up with a homemade bathrobe for him. 🙂

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