Pawprints and Purrs, Inc.

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Copyright © 1997 - 2009

In our hearts, the cherished memories live on... This site is created in loving memory of our beloved FancyBoy and JoJo.

Lady was my constant companion, always with me. I am so lost without her. She was a little tortoiseshell calico who slept on my lap each night while I watched TV and was on my bed right near me all night. I honor her love and my love with all my heart.

Pepper was the first of our girls and our oldest tortoiseshell. We got her in the spring of 1986. Our neighbor's daughters brought her over. They said, "We thought she was yours, because you have so many cats." Which is funny because we only had three at the time, although Lola was on order.

Pepper was probably three to four months old. She had a little girl's beaded bracelet around her neck. The bracelet was so tight, I couldn't pull it over her head. I had to cut it off.

Pepper turned out to be quite playful. She was the first of our kitties to play fetch. She loved the foam rubber balls and would chase them down the hallway and carry it back. She loved to tell us she was on her way. She never paid attention when I told her not to talk with her mouth full.

She was always good with the newcomers. We called her Mom Pep because she mothered all of the other kitties. She would spend hours grooming them.

For a while, she quit playing. But, not too long ago, she began bringing her mousie to throw for her. If I ignored her, she would bat mousie around under my chair. I usually gave in and played for a while. She would carry her mousie with her if I went out to watch television. She would push the mouse under the couch.

It was nice to see her act kittenish again.

On August 31, 2000 I found out during what was supposed to be a routine teeth cleaning, that Pepper might not be with us long. Something was eating away at her jaw, leaving behind some sort of fibroid material where the bone should be. When it progressed too far, we said goodbye. It was cancer.

On November 6, 2000 we released her from her disease. I stroked her after sedation, talking softly into her fur until she fell asleep. Then the vet found a vein, shaved her leg and administered the fatal injection. She was gone within seconds. I placed my head on her body, whispering goodbyes as her earthly body breathed it's last breath. Rest in peace, my tough little girl. You fought the good fight and we'll miss you terribly.

I love you, Pepper.

Jane and her brother, Mr. Rochester, were found under a dumpster at about 2 weeks old, presumably abandoned by their feral mother. I took them in as fosters on November 1, and nursed them and played with them and completely fell in love with them while preparing them for a new loving home of their own someday.

The morning after Thanksgiving, I went to check on them and Jane was not doing well. We rushed her to the vet, she was given a 1 percent chance of survival, and she was in a coma. We made the decision to euthanise her, and we are just heartbroken. Chester is a little lost without his sister, but seems to be adjusting. She is the first cat I've ever lost, and even though she was only in my life for 3 weeks, we miss her terribly and will never forget her sweet little face.

Misty was my kitty for 18 years, yet it certainly wasn’t enough. She was a sleek and beautiful, gray and white kitty. She was naturally dressed up with symmetrical markings: She had a diamond between her eyes, a white line on her nose, a bowtie between her nose and mouth, white mitten-like paws, a bib on her chest and a stripe down her belly. I never tired looking at and admiring her.

Misty came into my family’s life thanks to the urgings of my two sisters. Through those 18 years I appreciated her unique domesticated, yet wild ways. She always was curious and spunky. She was a dignified kitty and was very particular to whom she rewarded her trust. Her trust had to be earned.

Despite the many changes in my life in 18 years, Misty was a constant. I could always count on her being around. Misty was a small cat and yet was somehow able to avoid being the victim of a catfight in throughout her life, despite living in a neighborhood with other cats. Misty was not a quiet kitty. Misty was a talking kitty. She was always expressing herself vocally, particularly when it was time to eat, or when she greeted a member of my family, or when she found me by looking through the window in the basement, while I was at the computer doing an assignment for school. Late at night she complained loudly when initially put back to her comfy cathouse in the garage. Misty greeted me when I came home from work at 10:30 p.m. I would pull into the driveway and soon I would see those white paws come running under the space under the garage door. She would then accompany me to the front door. After her routine of inspecting the kitchen floor, she would meet me again in the living and sit on my lap as I read the newspaper.

Misty was a healthy kitty all of her 18 years. I thought she might break some records for longevity, as she was only gracefully slowing down. She was a little slower in greeting me at night. Unfortunately, her hearing was off a bit and that may be why she was hit by car in the morning of July 11, 2000.

Misty kitty is no longer here and I miss her, especially when I come home at night. However, I know she lives happily as an angel kitty. Her contributions to my family and her memories will always be appreciated, and never forgotten.

Thanks Misty.

My kitty, BJ, was born sometime in 1994. That was when he found me. He died May 8, 2001. I saw him a few hours before he died...he meowed weakly and began to purr. I miss you buddy. I hope you are in a happier place now.

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