That first night my lady brought in a plastic box with sand in the bottom. She said it was a litter box, and that she hoped I would use it. I had never used one before, but my mother had told my brothers, sisters, and I about using one when she was young. As Fred started to groom me again, he had whispered that I didn’t need to worry about that litter box. He intended to take care of me in every way. I remember that my mother had done that when we were tiny. Once we were big enough to walk away from the nest, we did our business outside. I whispered to Fred that I was not afraid to use that litter box. I walked over like I owned the world, and climbed over the edge to land face first in the sand. I moved to the far corner, dug a little hole, and did my business. I do hope I get better at climbing in and out, or at least that I remember where not to do my business! It was only when Fred picked me up in his mouth to lift me out of the litter box, that I was struck with an idea I had not considered. I knew I was a cat, but I could hear Fred, a dog, whisper things in my ear. I could understand him! Maybe that means that not only am I a cat, but maybe I am part dog too. I may be the only dog-cat in the world. Isn’t that a great idea?

The discussion about the litter box has me thinking about my brothers, sisters, and my mother. It seems like forever since I had last seen my mother. She told us stories about the farmer’s wife who had taken her in as a young cat. The wife had hidden her in the pantry in her farmhouse kitchen. The wife’s husband did not want cats in the house. He found her when she was clearly pregnant with all of us. Mother told us that our father had left as soon as she got pregnant. She called him a cad. She thought the farmer was also a cad.

The farmer’s wife was worried about how she was going to conceal us once we were born. The farmer answered that by taking Mother to a big cold barn, and dumping her in a box. The wife came out with a bundle of rags, so that Mother could make a nest. Mother said the wife also brought out food, but she didn’t eat anything. She started having us shortly after the wife left. The farmer found the food later and yelled at his wife, saying that the food bowl would attract more mice. He said they couldn’t afford a freeloading cat, and that Mother would need to catch her own food. The wife started bringing Mother food while the farmer was out in the fields. Mother said she knew she needed to eat all of the food to be able to take care of us properly.

When we were about six weeks old, Mother started to share that food with each of us. The farmer must have found some of it because the next day Mother was gone when we woke up. We never saw her again. Shortly thereafter, the man came back and closed the flaps on the box. The box shook when he moved it to what must have been his car. The car made scary noises before it would stop and a smelly gloved hand would open the flaps and grab one of my brothers or sisters. Like Mother they did not come back. I was the last one in the box when he stopped again to open the flaps. That smelly gloved hand grabbed me. I felt the rush of cold air as I went flying into the weeds. I made myself as tiny as I could be as I heard the scary noises as the car drove away. I didn’t know what to do. I checked to make sure I could stand and walk. The weeds were all so tall I didn’t know which way to go. I heard two women’s voices nearby. The last woman had tried to be kind to us. I decided I needed to trust these women. I marched through the weeds until I could see the two women. I was cold, wet, dirty, and very hungry. I started to cry. ‘Help me! I miss my mommy.’ That is when I first saw Fred. I heard one of the women say, “I can’t take another kitten. You need to be the one to pick it up.” Two warm gentle hands picked me up. This is how I started my life with my new family.