I "paws" to think...

Tonight I did the unimaginable...I stepped on her tail. Unintentional, yet firmly square upon her tail. She was just sitting there eating her dinner, minding her own business, and BAM...there it was, this humanoid firm-soled shoe compressing her tail into the kitchen floor. True animal lover that I am, I instinctively gasped and leapt back in horror, for a moment not remembering...

My kitty has been through much with her momma (that would be me). She came into my life several years ago when a stray kitty had the gall to walk into my family room (through the doggy door) and then into our game closet...where she proceeded to give birth to a rather large litter of kittens. We had no idea, until one evening we began hearing this unusual - though rather familiar - high-pitched squeaking noise emanating from the closet. My older daughter fell in love with one of these little kittens - the one with the large black splotch across half of her face - and appropriately named her "Spot." Hmmm...interesting choice of names...but it stuck. And after the girls were gone from the house, somehow Spotty remained.

After my marriage broke up and I found myself heading back to Newberg to a new job, Spotty came along. It was only right.

Of all the kitties I have owned through the years, Spotty was hands-down the bravest. Her valor in the face of possible adversity has been admirable. I suppose her most amazing strength of character is found in her love of dogs...not just your average mutt, but all the Great Danes and Rottweilers of the world. She truly loves them. We have enjoyed hours of entertainment (ok, I'm exaggerating just a bit) watching her interact with the dog across the street. He emerges from his front door periodically to...umm...get back to nature, and there goes Spotty, trotting across the street to spend a few precious moments leaning on him and rubbing against his coarse fur before he returns to the sanctuary of his living room.

But I digress...

Several months ago I was on my way to pick up my daughter at work. At that time she was working the late shift as a hotel desk clerk so there I was, crawling into my car at 11:00 pm to go get her. Wishing I was asleep, I hurridly slammed the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. It was then that I heard it. It sounded oddly like the painful yowl of a kitty. Feeling just a bit queasy at the prospect, I looked around the car, thinking I had possibly committed the unimaginable. To my relief, I didn't see anything...and I went on my way.

Next morning: Hmmm...where's Spotty? That's not like her...she's always around...must be out "catting around" somewhere...

Long story short...the next afternoon my daughter found her. There she was, lying in a little painful heap in the bushes outside our front door. After an anxiety-ridden trip to the vet, it was determined that she had been laying under the car when I started it up. Unfortunately for her, her tail was in the path of the oncoming tire. Even more unfortunately for her, just as the tire was pinning her tail securely to the driveway she determined that it was the appropriate time to RUN FOR IT. The result, as seen in the remaining strip of fur in the driveway, was that when she ran she pulled her tail from under the tire...

Spotty now has a dead tail. It still has blood flow, so it wasn't truly dead, but it is devoid of all feeling and ability to move. Her once active, perky kitty tail has become this incredibly heavy object that drags behind her when she walks. The vet advised that we have it amputated...and you would NOT believe how much they want to do what any farmer could do in 2 seconds. Therefore, being the good financial stewards that we are, we opted to allow her to keep her little tail (dysfunctional as it is).

Thus explains my unneeded horror at stepping on her tonight. But old habits die hard.

I suppose there should be some sort of a good spiritual parallel here...but frankly, I'm all typed out. I welcome any suggestions.

G'night, Spotty...sleep well, my kitty...