Junior,
We never expected you to come into our lives. It was a sad time in our family. Someone dear to us cared for your mother, even though she was a stray, until they became very ill and could no longer look after her. They had named her Sophie. The night we captured her and brought her to our house in a cage was traumatic, for us and for her. She gave birth to you that very night, in our basement.
For reasons we’ll never know, she nursed the others but not you. You cried and cried but she moved further away from you. Sophie and your sisters looked alike, but you were solid gray; different. In any case, there you were. I decided to be your mom, and that was
the beginning of our story.
There was very little joy when you came into our world. But for awhile, you caused people to smile, when they saw you and heard such loud meowing coming from a tiny ball of fur. And our lives changed after that.
Your new big sister, Amy, and I took turns feeding you. At night and at nap time, you stayed in your box of towels and were never out of sight. Since feedings were every few hours, we took you to work with us. Our co-workers’ faces brightened to see you! Amy was so serene and calm; she made feeding you seem easy. You required more patience with me, and your tiny claws made scratches on my hands in your frustration.
Sometimes in the car, I had to pull over to feed you on demand! In fact, the first time your daddy bonded with you was when we were coming home from the country. I was driving, when you began meowing loudly from your box. We could see your face looking out the holes. There was only one thing to do: your daddy had to take you out and give you your bottle! That was the funniest thing, to see his expression as he carefully lifted you out of the box to feed you, with you meowing the whole time! We laughed! We decided to name you Junior.
When you started to be aware of your world, it was daddy’s finger that you played with. You two discovered you could have fun together. You looked around and seemed to be laughing. Then you rubbed your eyes and got droopy, and we put you to bed. We took lots of video of you during the early weeks, when you started walking and eating solid food and learned how to use the kitty box. We washed you with cotton balls, in the sink, so it was perfectly logical that you took your meals at a special place on the counter after that.
Sophie became used to being part of the family. You won her over as you played with hats, string, leaves, water, feet, and all manner of kitty toys. As you grew, you kept me company in the back yard, when I was planting or raking. You would show off, attacking the leaves, climbing the Dogwood tree, walking along the fence top and drinking from the spout as I watered the plants.
You got to be such a big boy, over the years. In fact, you were magnificent! Your face was like a lion, your paws were large, your body long. You held your full, bushy tail straight up when you walked, as if it were a flag. You were Daddy’s little man.
We did everything we could to make you and Sophie happy. After all, it was your head butts and loud purring that cheered us up when the world made us weary. At night, your daddy looked forward to your big paws wrapped around his arm as he fell asleep. It was fun getting under the covers together on cold nights. We gave you and Sophie free access to the house and yard, through your special kitty door. We loved “spoiling” you both, but really it was just plain loving.
After almost 12 years, you are gone – it’s been just over a month since you left us. The doctors tried to save you, but they discovered your heart was weak, and no one knew. We feel so bad that we couldn’t fix it. Now your dad misses you in the morning, when you used to wait for him as he came down the steps. He always stopped to pat you before he left for work. You greeted us when we came home, and we looked for your shining eyes as we approached the house. Family and friends would call “goodnight, Junior” when they left at the end of the evening.
Junior, we miss you every day, and the family shares our loving memories of you. Hopefully, you hear us talking to you even now, and you will always feel the warmth of our love for you. There will never be another Junior, our little man, our baby. You were the best boy.
Love,
| Junior |
| Pam & Michael Newton |