It actually started when I was a wee lass of 6. Our family adopted a black and white kitty named Beaner because she jumped into a pot of baked bean at a BBQ my parent's were having. She was starving the poor little thing, so we gave her a plate of food and so she stayed. Us kids never had a cat before but we did have Banty Hens. Our Mom made little clothes for them and we could bring them in to watch TV with us in the afternoons. Of course with newspaper underneath. That little stray black and white cat started something in my life that still persists today. Beaner had a few litters of kittens but they always found homes. In high school a boy " from the wrong side of town " gave me a beautiful Black cat my Mother named him Uncle Lewis. Okay I know. So life goes on....I only remember one time in my whole life I didn't have a feline. And that was right after I married my high school honey. For a whole year. We moved to a farm and of course got a Calico cat. Through the years cats came and went when they crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Of course we always had dogs also all the years, mainly Border Collies. They too came and went. We had a daughter who was the twinkle of her Daddies eyes. Time marches on... We leave the farm. Rod gets a job at a local saw mill, lived in a small town which was right on the river. Our girl started growing up. She learned to fish and hike at a early age and loved the out doors. I rescued a box of kittens because the mother was run over. And that, my friend if you are still with me, started it up a notch. I'm going to skim over years...bought a house in Salem, Husband was transferred to another part of the State. More skipping here...Bought a house where he was transferred. The roadie lived on was known as a dumping street for cats and kittens. So La DE Dah guess who started rescuing the little guys. Me! Did that off and on for the 20 years we lived there. Rod was very supportive of this because I usually found good homes for them. I said usually right? Will explain soon. So Covid appeard it's dirty head in my town. As careful as my husband and I were I came down with it December 2020. I have never been so sick in my life. My husband got Covid a couple of weeks after me. Rod was hospitalized in the next town over, it came clear he was sicker then they thought. So the hospital airlifted him to the next bigger hospital. Which puts him in a different State. My daughter and I got to see him only once while he was in there. We were laughing and joking on when he was coming home. The Doctor tried calling me @ 3:00 in the morning but my phone never rang. He called again at 8 and told me my husband passed. So sold our house moved back to our hometown. With alot less accumulated stuff. But I also took all 7 of my rescued kitties. One is Bandit, my husband's cat. The man that didn't like cat's called him "son". Bandit is 19 years old. So I told him when he Crosses that Rainbow Bridge to tell his dad (husband) that it won't be long for all of us to see him again and to wait by the Bridge.
