James Giago Davies. Photo from Native Sun News

Little Miss is dying
Looking back over her nine lives
By James Giago Davies
www.nsweekly.com

My son was looking out the window one day, and he saw Little Miss on the far side of the highway that separated our house from the grove of trees where she liked to hunt. She looked both ways before crossing over to our yard.

Nothing she was ever taught, Little Miss has always been cautious and sensible and just plain smart. She’s small, probably not even ten pounds, and she’s kind of calico, and she’s kind of tabby, and she’s sort of gray, and when she meows, nothing but a faint whisper escapes.

But Little Miss is my hero.

Fifteen years ago we had five pets, two dogs, three cats, and two dogs and a cat were lost to cancer, one cat to old age, only Little Miss is still with us. She was a scruffy kitten then, from an unwanted litter a work colleague I didn’t like was trying to unload, and I grudgingly accepted her presence in our home, associating that presence with the person I didn’t like, and so while Little Miss was a kitten, I was gone working much of the time, and when I was home I paid no attention to her.

We did not bond, and when my voice got loud or I stepped too close she would dart off and hide. Sometimes when I woke up she would be just a foot away from my face staring at me but I never reached out once and petted her.

Read the rest of the story on the all new Native Sun News website: Little Miss is dying

(James Giago Davies can be reached at skindiesel@msn.com)

Copyright permission Native Sun News