Tiggie. And then there were two.

After the amorous raids of the ugly orange ogres were over, things settled down again for a while.  The weather was very cold with frequent snow storms.  I felt bad for the remaining three kittens and tried to entice them in, at least to eat.  They would only come in as far as the thresh- hold and if I tried to shut the door, they would bolt.

Tiggy liked to lure a person out by peeking in the window and looking cute.  She was the champion of cute and did it so well.  But Tiggie tempestuous.  One minute she'd be friendly and purring.  A minute later, your hand or leg might resemble coleslaw.  One cold day, Tiggie was being a real pain.  Every time I passed the window, there was a pair of big eyes peering in.  Occasionally, I'd go out and visit with her or bring her a treat.  After about the sixth time, I went out, grabbed her and brought her in.  But as soon as I shut the door, she went completely berserk.  She frantically raced around howling and throwing herself at walls and windows.  This went on for about twenty minutes.  Fearing for both feline and human safety, I finally was able to capture her and put her out.

Perverse little creature that she was, about a week later, she tried to follow me in.  Busy and wanting to avoid a scene like the previous one, I discouraged her.  It was another decision I would regret.

A few days later, I dozed off while reading.  In a dream, I began to view things from a really weird perspective.  Snow was rushing under my feet, a few inches from my face.  I felt exhilarated as I leap up and over a snow bank.  Suddenly something jarred the side of my head and everything went black.  The jolt was hard enough to startle me awake.  I didn't know what it meant.

The next feeding time, Tiggie was missing.  I was wracked with guilt.  Even though Tiggie was afraid to come in, she must have known what was going to happen would be worse.  I searched for Tiggie but didn't find her until a few days later.  And when I found her, I understood what I had seen and felt in the dream.  Tiggie was stiff and frozen on the side of a snow bank.  The side of her head was bashed in and she was recognizable only by the little white tip on the end of her tail.  While she waited on a snow bank, a plow must have struck her as it passed by.

Oddly, in the spot I picked to bury her, the ground wasn't frozen.  After my husband and I buried the crazy little Tigger, we turned to walk back towards the house.  And stopped in out tracks.  A few feet away from us, a very pregnant Mama crouched and was watching us.  As we walked towards her and then past her, she didn't run.  The expression in Mama's eyes spoke volumes.  She was grieving and as aware as any human would have been in the same circumstance. 

Along with intelligence, cats have feelings and form attachments to each other.  These feline attachments are as strong as any human attachments. 

Feral mother cats care for their offspring until it's almost time for the next litter.  This is usually a span of several months.  Humans like to yank the kittens away from the mother within a few weeks.  I think this  practice causes as much grief to a mother cat as it would to a human. 

In the spring, a black and white soccer ball escaped from some neighborhood kids.  It crossed the street, rolled down a hill, through some bushes and landed on Tiggie's grave.  Years later, it's still there.