The Little Cat That No One Wanted

My Buddy

I never wanted a cat. I Never wanted the trouble of taking care of a pet. Then one day someone threw a little kitten into our yard. I heard meowing in the morning and thought nothing of it because there is always someone meowing around our place. In the evening the meowing was still going on so I decided that maybe it was coming from our property. I opened the front door and before I could step out he ran right up to me and looked me square in the face and said meow. It was evening so my wife put a box outside by the door and set some water and food inside of it. I told him to jump into the box and he did.

The next morning I did not expect him to still be there, but when I opened the door and looked down he was looking up at me. He said meow again. I guess he knew he was our cat.

We would borrow my mother-in-law's cat from time to time to hunt mice, but he was not much good at it. I had to find the mice and then drop him on top of them and most of the time even that was not enough to overcome his laziness. 

This new cat was good at hunting everything and needed no help or encouragement.

The thing that Butterscotch was best at was sleeping.

He would sleep on piles of junk:

on the washing machine:

 on my tools:

 on the new couch:

on the fridge:

 on the TV:

in my hat:

Sometimes he would have friends over for nap time:

Butterscotch hated bath time, but his buddy did not mind it much:

Butterscotch grew up to be big and beautiful:

He was only three years old when this photo was taken:

He was so healthy and strong, but then he suddenly became ill. The photo above was taken on his last day.

Every morning I would call him expecting that one morning he would not show up, but he always did. I was afraid someone would hurt him or that a jeepney would run him over and I would never see him again or know what happened to him. But he died with me. He took his last breath in my arms and I buried him in the place where he would often sit with me in our yard. I think of him every time I go out.

After Butterscotch died I had two dreams about him. In the first dream he was just sitting on the sidewalk looking very distinguished. In the second dream he was with the white cat, which had died a few months earlier. They were chasing each other around the house. They were having a lot of fun and knocking over all of the plants.  

I never wanted a cat before Butterscotch found us. 

Butterscotch was the first cat that I had ever taken care of in my adult life. He was a lot of fun to play with when he was a kitten, but I really did not know how to take care of him. I know now that allowing him to play with my feet was a mistake and I would not do this with a kitten today because I know that they carry that behavior into their adulthood when it is no longer cute or safe for your feet. I do not regret the playtime that we had though. 

When I was at home he was with me almost constantly and even slept at the foot of my bed. On cooler nights I would wake up with him squished under my back and pressed down into the mattress. I still don't know how he could take that, but that was what he liked to do to keep warm.  

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