We always had lots of cats on the farm. Black cats, white cats, fluffy cats, fat cats, sweet cats. Lots of cats. I love cats. They are tiny little toys, completely independant of other cats, or their human "owners". If they like you, they like you, and to tame a cat speaks volumes of the tamer.

Jared, Keekoo, and Dono were all pure black. Dono got her name because Aunt Louise asked Grandpa what her name was, and Grandpa said " Don't know" but pronounced it "Dough - no".

Sally was gray. Cute, and sweet.

Casper - well, I'm sure you can figure out what color she was.

Itsy Boo and Iddy Tom were kittens. Persian kittens. Grandma used to lock them up in the down stairs bathroom all the time. I don't know why. I don't think there was a "why". It was her little fetish - to lock things up. They were "silver". Smart kittens too. And twins. They learned to turn the handle to let themselves out, but then Grandma put a stool infront of the door so they couldn't push it open.

Sylvester - can you picture him? He looked just like Sylvester the cat. He was locked in the milk house. There were tools and junk piled high, it was filthy dirty. His litter box wasn't changed in the 4 years I lived there. Grandma said he was a very mean cat, and would hurt the other kitties if he got out. But he was never mean to me. They called him Kadophe - after the Russian leader. I used to sit, perched in my window, watching him across the yard, locked up in his window. This is the one that breaks my heart the most. I love you Sylvester. And I'm really really really sorry I never let you out. I'm sorry I was 8 and stupid, 9 and stupid, 10 and stupid, 11 and stupid, then 12 and stupid. I'm sorry I never saved you. It's been a thousand years since I've seen your kitten face in the dirty window - but I promise you I see it every day. And every day I'm so sorry.

There were twinkle toes and white toes. They were wild. At first we thought they were the same cat - but they are twins. One day we saw them both at the same time.

Turtle was 1/2 siamese. Talkative cat. Lovable.

Gretchen was little mother's mother. Little mother was locked up on the front porch. I don't know why. Little mother had two cat kids- Jared and a yellow kitty. I don't remember yellow kitty's name. Gretchen had LONG hair, like Bashena. Bashena is my cat today. I don't lock her up anywhere, or throw her into walls, or feed her vicks. That's wrong. I love my cat, and pet her when she wants it, and give her treats and wet food, and cuddles. Some people say she's mean, but I don't care. She's a beautiful cat. And I love her.

Thumbs was the kitty they locked in their bedroom. She was a million colors - even some pink! I thought maybe that is why they kept her in their bedroom. Every night, Grandma would get out a bottle of Vicks Vapor rub, stick her finger in it and get a big glob. She had long, thick nails she painted Vixen red. The goo coated her nail, but the red still shone through. She would grab Thumbs, sweet, skittish Thumbs, by the neck and force the glob down her throat, and hold her jaw until she swallowed. She said it kept her from getting sick. She did that every day for almost 4 years. One day Thumbs jumped out the second story window, and no one ever saw her again. I loved that cat, but I knew why she ran away. We called her thumbs because her thumbs were very pronounced. Her little paws were the cutest, with pink and black pads, and a pink and black nose! I hope she didn't hurt her cute little paws when she jumped. Good luck to you Thumbs. You were a beautiful kitty, and you didn't deserve that awful place.

Casper was the only declawed kitty. She still bit though. And she bit alot. Probably because grandma and grandpa used to throw her into the walls, the corners of tables, clear across the room, whereever. They would feed her from the table, then kick her across the room for being on the table. She came in and out as she pleased. One of the few cats they didn't lock up. They treated Casper the same way they treated me. Hot and cold. Loving, then violent.

Of all the things that they did, abusing the cats was the worst. And the hardest for me to live with.

You are going to hell Grandma.
Once I get rid of you.