Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

February 7, 2016

Front Porch Dottie: May 1, 2015- February 7, 2016

Filed under: General — Vadasmaker @ 12:28 pm
Tags: , ,
Dottie with the deep green eyes

Dottie with the deep green eyes

When he went to get the paper this morning, Jim found our Dottie at the top of the steps that lead to the sidewalk. Someone, we don’t know who, placed her there after she had apparently been hit by a car.

We don’t know exactly where Dottie was born, but we think it was around the corner at the home of a woman who clearly didn’t deserve cats. Mama, an easy-going but fiercely protective flame-point Himalayan, brought all four kittens and put them under our porch when they were just a few weeks old. I guess she thought we’d know what to do.

All the kittens got Mama’s round eyes and thick, long hair and a tinge of blue from the probable father, Greg Gray, a massive blue-gray tom from two doors down. Once they were spayed and neutered, everybody got homes except Mama and Dottie. So we made them ours.

Almost every evening, Greg Gray came to call.  Dottie and Mama let him eat, then they all sprawled on the porch for a while, Dottie lying near first one, then the other. If I’d been her and Mama , I wouldn’t have let him have any food. I thought he was kind of a dead-beat dad who never brought anything to the table, but like my friend Kasty told me, it’s hard to bring anything to the table when you don’t have thumbs.

Greg Gray

Greg Gray



Dottie nursed until she was almost 5 months old, at which time Mama must have decided that was a load of crap and put a stop to it. Dottie’s best friend, besides Mama, was a piece of tree bark she chased from one end of the porch to the other, leaping and pouncing as if it were trying to get away. I think she must have been a very loyal cat, because it looked like it was always the same piece of bark.

From the time she was a kitten, Dottie waited every morning for Jim to fetch the paper, and she chased his feet all the way across the lawn and back to the porch. A few months ago she let him give her a couple of strokes. As long as she didn’t see the hand coming, she was good with it, and he did that a little every day. For the last few weeks, any time he was outside, she ran to him, spun around, and plopped on her butt with her back to him, her signal that she wanted to be stroked, but she didn’t want to see that hand coming.

When I sat on the porch, she did the Dottie-dash, sprinting 10 feet to my left, then all the way back to the right, then creeping around to the back of my chair, purring and watching my fingers as I let them dangle close to the floor, then starting the whole cycle over.

You were an amazing cat, Dottie, and we loved watching you grow into your beautiful, silver tabby self. We’ll miss seeing you at the storm door, your green eyes luminous as you watched the inside cats watching you. You will never be far from our hearts .Dottie and her bark


1 Comment »

  1. RIP Dottie. Cats are awesome. Much better companions than most humans. At least, they know when to shut up. And they love to chase (dance) even in their dottage. Love and hugs.


    Comment by pony tale girl — February 8, 2016 @ 12:30 pm | Reply

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