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I got a kitten when I was 19. He liked being on my shoulder. He went everywhere with me on my shoulder. Loved riding in my MG Midget with the top down. Loved to go visiting, prowling my friends' neighborhoods while we partied. When it was time to leave I'd call him. He'd come bounding out of the brush and off we'd go.
They wouldn't let me bring him to work.
He pined until I got home. Climbed up on me and put his arms around me kissed me purring under my ear. One day I got home and Elliott wasn't there. He'd been hit by a car. I almost died.
At least he left a legacy. I would not have him neutered. I just couldn't do it to him. He fooled around with the next door neighbors' cat and two of that litter were clearly his. My sister took them. Andrew and Jessica.
I have had some wonderful, wonderful, wonderful cats in my day. I miss them so much I don't think I can ever bear to have another.
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