The Touch of a Paw

Never been partial to cats much. Always been a dog kinda of guy.
However, through the years there have been a few cats that were special.

There was my grandparent’s barn cat, Tiger.
He was the ultimate hunting machine.
I spent many an hour as a youngster sharing with him in his outdoor world.
He often would lay his latest catch out in the barn in our sitting area.
Tigers way of pronouncing victory, proving his worth and accomplishment.

There was Red Moon, an Egyptian Siamese, not my cat but a dear friend’s.
Red was domestic and very particular in choosing his friends.
Very few people outside their immediate family even knew he existed.
He would stay away from strangers, and only come out when totally comfortable.
I was fortunate enough to be in Red Moons circle of trust.
When he was comfortable he was a master charmer and cuddler.

Then there was Morris. You can guess, he looked just like his namesake.
Not quite as big, but definitely the color, and markings.
Morris was a stray who wondered into my life a few years ago.
He rubbed along my leg for attention, and meowed in a barely audible way.
He allowed me to turn him over and rub his belly, an immediate sign of trust.
I guess he was about 5 or 6 months old then.

I brought him home and my daughter was in pure joy.
Having a dog, things were difficult at first, but they became good friends too.
Morris had both the qualities of Tiger and Red Moon.
He was a suburban hunter, and a domesticated cuddler.
Morris was a smart cat; he never messed in the house, or clawed anything.
He would sit on my lap, and touch my face with his paw.
Gently prodding for attention like Red Moon, and always getting it in return.
Occasionally bringing a catch to the doorstep like Tiger, but he preferred cat food.

Being in the suburbs there is a bit of a stray cat problem.
Sometimes people take cruel measures to rid their property of them.
Morris was a roamer, spending half his time indoors, the other out.
Unfortunately he roamed into someone’s yard, and they had put out poison.

When he came home that afternoon I knew he was not himself.
Thinking he was maybe a bit sick I didn’t think much of it.
But that evening I could tell he was in real trouble.
I took him to the vet, but the poison had taken its toll.
We put him to sleep, to end his pain and suffering.
Talking to him and holding him, I hoped he understood.

After leaving the vet I was in tears, it was very late at night, and rainy.
Just down the road from the vet there is an eight-way intersection.
It is very confusing with several blind spots, if you don’t glance over your shoulder.
As the light turned green for me, I started to go, and something said wait, stop.
As I looked over my shoulder a large truck ran through the red light at high speed.
Had I continued I am sure I would’ve been visiting Morris in heaven, sooner than expected.

People have their own beliefs on these things, but I know it was Morris who said wait.
If cats do have nine lives, maybe they loan out a few unused ones.

He gave us three good years, and we gave him a loving home.
I will always remember the gentle touch of his paw on my face.
I am sure he is with Tiger and Red Moon now.
Perhaps hunting, and cuddling for the Big Guy.
Reach out and touch His face for me, He won’t be able to resist either.

I am so sorry I couldn’t save your life buddy.
I am so grateful for you saving mine.

(c) BAS 2004 ...;}...