Posted on 04/04/2010 8:36:45 PM PDT by smokingfrog
There is always a part of the story that tugs at your heartstrings. This is a story that tells “the what” that happens after the beginning and before the end. You know, the part of the story you don’t always hear.
Those are not my words. They are Graham Murdock’s. I asked him to tell me his crazy cat story, and he sent it to me, already written. Does that mean I get the day off?
This is a weird one and involves a cat, two Springfield women, a South Carolinian and begins with Graham.
On Dec. 13, 2008, his nephew, Matt Murdock, was coming through town with his family along with their dog and a cat named Griffindor. They were on their way from Kansas to their new home in South Carolina and took advantage of their travel route to visit Graham and his wife, Ednita.
As Matt was carrying a baby inside, the dog suddenly stormed into the house, which caused pandemonium, especially for Griffindor, who dug his claws into Matt.
“My nephew gasped,” writes Graham, “the dog entered and the cat bolted, all in about the amount of time it takes Elvis to ask for a third helping of mashed potatoes and fried chicken. He ran out the door, across the yard, hurdled the fence and disappeared into the cold night.”
Griffindor was gone. The family searched for about an hour, but in vain. Before turning in, they placed food, treats and a warming pad outside Graham’s house in case the cat returned in the middle of the cold winter’s night. He didn’t.
They looked for him again the next morning before Matt and his family had to leave without their cat.
(Excerpt) Read more at sj-r.com ...
Ping for the list.
KITTY ping!
beat me
Nice story.
We had a Maine Coon. One of the most loving cats I have ever known. They are referred to as the “Gentle Giant.” And they “talk” with you.
A perfect family cat.
lol. Thanks for the story w/ the happy ending!
bflr
He looks smug. :-)
We have one. Neighbors said come get him out of our barn. I picked him up and he settled into my arms and purred while I carried him 100 yards to my truck. Never squirmed once. He talks to us in chirps and trills all the time. Mostly he bitches about not having enough food or the right kind. When we got him he was about 7 months old. He was a playing machine, but has mellowed some at age 3. He still will jump against our legs to try to provoke us into playing with him. He loves water. When I am done in the shower he wants to be picked up and placed in the 2-4 inches of water that hasn’t gone down the drain yet. When his paws are good and wet he’ll often wash his head with them. He’s a mouser extraordinaire! He’ll get a look in his eye, go down in the cellar, and come back with a mouse in his jaws. He certainly is a different breed of cat.
Took them that long to check the cat for a chip?
It’s a great happy ending. We’ve never lost a cat, and I can’t imagine how hard it would be. Our late Tiger got out once, but she didn’t go far, and we found her after one frantic hour. She was cowering in the bushes, and she was so glad to be picked up that I had to check her markings to make sure it was she. A few hours later, she returned to being the B**** Cat From Hell, Miss Put-Me-Down-Or-I-KEEEEL-YOU.
that’s a fat cat
One of my cats (the evil one) is a runner, but 10 days outside cured her of that. She’s still an omnicidal maniac, but grudgingly consents to live in my house as long as she gets regular meal service.
But we do love them so.
Maine Coons aren’t fat, they’re just big. My vet in California had a 28-pounder, Tucker, who died of a reaction to anesthesia.** He was solid and muscular. My Rocket was 18 pounds (a Maine Coon “runt”) in his prime, also very solid.
**Yes, the poor guy killed his own cat. It was sad.
We have two. One is 29 pounds, big, fat, lazy, and annoying, but very loving in his own way—when my wife has a rough day with our daughter, Livingston’s right there to lie on her feet or snuggle with her. Our other one is a scrawny (for a Maine Coon) rescue cat we got seven years ago. Beauregard is scared of his own shadow, but loves to jump up in my lap, curl up, lie down, and get his purr on. It’s the only place he seems to completely relax. He also likes curling up on the sofa with our four-year-old daughter. (Livingston, in fact, is curled up on the floor next to my chair as I write this.)
They’re great cats. They really are perfect for families with kids, because they’re sturdy and generally forgiving. Livingston put up with so much stuff from our daughter when she was a baby and only bonked her gently on the head a few times to correct her. She got the point quickly. :)
}:-)4
Good looking cat! =^..^=
It’s a classic abusive relationship.
Sometimes the “lost” house cat is very scared or frightened. They find themselves in strange surroundings and they resort to the flight mentality.
I am currently working with a beauty of a stray gray male cat. He turned up on the coldest of Jan. winter days. All winter the neighbor and I have fed him and provided shelter for the big guy. He won’t come to either of us, but will sit a distance off and watch. Now that the weather is breaking we should be able to set a have-a-hart trap. We couldn’t during the winter as he may have frozen to death in the trap by the time we would get home from work etc.
A few miles from here I spotted a sign looking for a lost gray cat the other day...
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.