A Tribute to Mr. Small and all Rescue Cats
Mr. Small was the runt in a litter of eight (hence the name). He would not have made it if not for a wonderful mama cat named Maggie. She took in Mr. Small and raised him along with 3 of her own. Last in line and very outsized by his foster brothers, he grew into a shy, undemanding and for the most part, un-noticed kitty. All of Mr. Small's bigger, prettier brothers got adopted, but skinny, tiny Small saw kittens come and go. He never got his turn to have a family of his own to love him for always.
From the beginning Small won my heart, and when he was nearly grown the day finally came, the day someone wanted him for their own above all the others. I turned them down. He was to live his days with us.
As you can see, Mr. Small grew into a real beauty, with the softest, most luxurious coat that any purebred would envy. His pedigree is unknown, although the whole litter had lovely pom-pom tails like Japanese Bobtails. His mother was small and cobby like a manx, with no tail at all. If you offered him love he would gladly take what you offered. He would sing, kiss and snuggle until you put him down. He would never come and ask for attention or try to get away from you when you held him.
My house was already full of cats and even though I know so well that the outdoor cat has so little chance for a long life, I took the chance that Mr. Small would beat the odds. After all, we weren't near any roads. I thought it would be okay.
Without any planning, we got a chance of a lifetime to purchase a farm of our own. The only problem was that we were close to a fairly busy road. For almost a year Small and 2 unadoptable kitty friends lived in the cattery. I felt so sad for them, but I knew my heart would break if one got killed on that road. My husband is the one that convinced me to let them out. I started letting them out during the day and putting them in at night. They loved being barn cats. So much to do and so much attention. For nearly 2 years it was okay.
I was outside when it happened. I was just going to put them in. I heard the car hit something, and the brakes squeal. When the car backed into our drive and the woman got out of her car I knew what had happened.
I could see he was gone from across the street. Until way after dark I sat under a tree in my yard and cried for Mr. Small, and all the "what if's". I cried for all the unloved cats in the world, for all the unloved cats that will someday die, and all the sick cats. And when no tears were left I went out and took my baby back to the cattery for the last time. I prayed that he was at peace. It was dark and cold the day my little boys and I buried Mr. Small in a carefully chosen place. We lit a candle and said a prayer to send him to heaven. My son asked Small to forgive him for not petting him enough and I prayed that I could have called him in 5 minutes sooner. I asked him to forgive me for not protecting him. I told him I loved him. I promised him I'd see him again, and together we will walk the Rainbow Bridge.
Give your kitty a hug for Mr. Small tonight.
If you adopt a kitty from a shelter, take a second look at the plain black cat. Many times he goes un-noticed.