WATSON
That's Bobby on the left and Watson on the right.
Watson is the only surviving child of Ginger at the time of her death, and therefore was the oldest of our pet cats after she died. He and his siblings were the strongest kittens ever to be born in our home.
He had one sister, Mikey - who ran away when we brought her to the SPCA for check-up, and therefore was lost. He had two brothers: Andrei was the curious one and was the first to start visiting the outside world for long periods of time... one day he never came back. Bacchi was the fattest one and was the first to take to climbing ... climbing out of the box, climbing up a tree, and eventually climbing up the wall and to the roof. Like Andrei, Bacchi would always visit outside the wall; but unlike Andrei, Bacchi usually came back within the day. It is only during his last year or so that Bacchi would disappear days at a time. Like Andrei, there was a day that he just never came back.
Watson was different from his brothers in many ways.
He wasn't a very active kitten. While Andrei and Bacchi were teasing Heidi the dog (those two are reason Heidi hates cats), Bacchi would just sit somewhere nearby and watch them. He would also watch the TV if he's inside the house.
He would grow up to be a ferocious cat though ... he was as territorial as Bacchi and the two would often fight on the roof if they see each other. But unlike Bacchi, Watson likes to take care of kittens. Bacchi wouldn't come near a kitten nor would he want them coming near him. Watson on the other hand would lick the kittens clean and on those rare occasions he's feeling generous, he'd save them food to eat... food he'd stolen from the dining table, and sometimes from someone else's house.
The picture up there was taken last February. This summer, Watson stopped eating for some reason and then he got weak and died. Bobby (who I sometimes call White-Nose or White-Socks or Short-Tail) is now the oldest cat in the house.
BECKY
Becky was the second youngest dog in the house. I think the metalsmith who installed the grates and gates in the house was the one who brought her as a "gift" since he knew my dad likes dogs. I think he was the one who also gave us Harry. I won't be surprised if that same smith was the one who was eventually hired to make the dog houses for Heidi, Becky and Harry.
Becky spent the first few months of her life in the dining room, when she started growing, she was transferred to the kitchen. Becky was playful and she was even friends with Bobby the cat when she was a puppy. She liked teasing Heidi, and unwittingly made an enemy of the older dog. Heidi just went for her throat one day, which is why the two could never be put in the same area ever. Hence, the need to place Becky in the carport and install the gate that separated it from the front porch where Heidi is.
This is Becky staring through the bottom of the gate when she's bored.
All dogs like to dig, and since there is no patch of earth big enough to dig in the carport, Becky took to scratching these tiles instead:
My sister Tess likes putting all fancy stuff on the iron chairs and table. Becky usually stays off them ... but when she's being naughty she would grab one and chew through it. Tess would usually "report" to my mom that Becky's done something bad ... but my mom would just tell Tessie that she should know better than put something in the carport that the dog would want to play with.
I realized Becky was sick Thursday night when I saw my brother injecting her with medicines and vitamins. That would be after I asked my mom why Heidi was howling and doesn't want to be left alone. As I was patting Heidi on the head to shut her up, I looked over at the carport and saw my brother with a very sick Becky. Apparently, Becky hadn't been eating for days. Those injections didn't do much good though. Mom told me Becky was dead this morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment