Monday, October 13, 2008


After writing about Buddy, I mentioned I would post later about why I'm a cat-lover. By the time I was 12, my brothers had moved out of the house and my 9 year-old poodle died. My mother said no more dogs because they were too confining; we couldn't go anywhere on the weekends. She did say I could have the pick of my grandmother's barn cat's kittens. Thus, my love of cats was born. I picked out a beautiful calico and named her Priscilla Mae, or "Prissy" for short. She used to lie among my dolls and stuffed animals while I "taught" them during school. She was with me from the time I was 12 until I was 31. I was devasted when I lost her to cancer.