Once upon a time, many years before my 5 current furbabies were born and came to rule our house, there was a neighborhood stray named Molly. At this time, Clayton and I had just gotten married and were living in an apartment complex. One day, the lady that lived next door came to get me to tell me that Molly the stray had three kittens in her utility shed. One of my other neighbors wanted the little girl, who was gray with white feet. I absolutely HAD TO HAVE the little black boy. A few days later, the other kitten disappeared. We soon learned that the black baby was extremely shy and fearful. His eyes were matted and needed treatment, but we had such a difficult time catching him to work on his eyes that he was eventually partially blind in one eye. It took me all summer of working with him to get him to trust me. We soon became inseparable with him sleeping at my head every night.
After about six years, I got pregnant and Clayton and I became concerned that BlackBaby would be jealous of the new baby when he arrived. Black would sit on my lap and purr when John kicked. When John was born, Clayton brought something home that the baby had worn to let Black smell of it. From the day we brought little John home, Black took it upon himself to become the baby’s personal guardian.
He would sit at the door of his room while he slept. If the baby cried, Black cried and ran back and forth between us until I got there. When John got a little older, BlackBaby starting sleeping at his feet. It didn’t matter what John did to him, including trying to ride him, BlackBaby never scratched him or hissed at him.
When John was in 2nd grade, my Daddy gave us a tract of land next to his house downtown. We built a house and of course, brought Black with us. After a year or so, John decided he wanted his own baby kitten. We found a little 8 week old rescue kitten that was a precious ball of fur. We knew she was the one when she took her tiny paw, placed it on my cheek and looked directly into eyes.
Having been an indoor cat since we adopted him, Black had never seen a kitten and we were apprehensive about the arrival of the new tiny little 4-legged diva. We named her PrincessPuff. BlackBaby adopted this kitten like she was one of his own. He washed her, played with her and taught her everything she would need to know.
It broke my heart when we lost BlackBaby. I still think of him every day, but I know that he lived a long, happy life and he is patiently waiting for me when I cross Rainbow Bridge.
RIP BlackBaby
Written by Susan Stacy, you may find her on Facebook under same name and on Twitter @Trancer1092