We got Deuteronomy at the end of the Cold War. He was supposed to be the companion kitty to my intellectually challenged sister. Oh man, or is the word developmentally delayed? It’s not that horrid R word anyway. I first saw him in a quonset at my uncle’s farm. He was teeny, and I wanted him right away. I just had a feeling about him. I had been badgering my mother for nearly a year to get a cat and she’d finally caved when Uncle John’s cat had kittens.
Partly we wanted a cat because they weren’t accidentally killed as often as hamsters, but that is another story.
He was a sweet guy and totally cuddly even to strangers on the street. He was also a deadly hunter and a big meanie fighting tom. He killed 7 generations of blue jays who insisted on nesting in the same tree every year. He also left us for six months to go live with the neighbors, who called him Moochie.
His death was beautiful and dignified, he got a sedative and then The Shot and was petted and loved right until he died in our arms. He was lucky to have such a nice death. I really hope euthanasia is legal by the time I’m old, crotchety, and ready to leave.