I remember the first time I saw Buster, curled up behind a cozy red chair inside the cardboard box village. He had a look of innocence to him as he breathed with a consistent purr.
I was down at my Mom’s for the weekend and I was the last of the family to see the kitten with the black and white fur. He was playful, adoring the game “hide-n-go-seek.” He’d hide underneath the bathroom sink in a cupboard where he was kept company by all his toys.
As he got older the cupboard started to get too small for him, so he began to sleep in the living room in between the coffee table and the mattress I slept on . I vividly remember one night when we played with a piece of string and he became extremely hyper, almost clawing at us with excitement. He soon became an outdoor kitty and ruled
over the trailer park.
He made friends and enemies like his buddy Johnny Rotten the neighbor’s cat, and the stray black and white who we often heard screeching in the night while he and Buster fought over territory, food, and girl cats. But Buster always won.
One day Buster was able to win the heart of a cat called Misty, and she became pregnant. We were in the process of moving at the time, but we cautiously welcomed her into the family.
She had a litter of 3 whom which we named Bagherra, Jasper and Boopy. My cousin quickly took to Baggy,
as the rest of us to to all of them.
As time went on in our new home the kittens grew bigger and stronger with the help of their loving father Buster. The mother was sent to another home as was Boopy, to be taken care of by other owners. Now we had Buster, Baggy and Jasper. But recently Baggy moved away with my cousin, and Buster died. When I heard the news, I did not cry, for I knew he was living on in our hearts and through his son Jasper, who’s practically identical to him. I know life won’t be the same without him but with happy memories, things will get better. When I think of Buster now I can’t help but remember the picture of him I took last Christmas standing in front of the tree with tinsel strung from his ear hilariously.
I now look to Jasper and instantly recognize him for who he is, the son of Buster. He must be happy being the son of the greatest cat ever.
In Loving Remembrance,
| Buster H. Winters |
| Kimberly Mae Clark |