Smokey first came into my life as a starving, anemic kitten. I answered a free kittens ad and when I arrived at the place, the people managed to catch this scawny kitten using scraps of white bread. He was scared and malnurished and I had to have him. I put him on the enclosed front porch so I could keep an eye on him and also get him used to human contact. Sitting still and moving the food closer and closer to me without pressuring him finally got him trusting me enough that I could pet him. That process took two long weeks. After that he was my buddy. He got big and fluffy with a long black coat and smoke colored undercoat and wanted nothing more than to cuddle. He would stretch up and could put his front paws on my waist. I would pick him up and he would lay his head on my shoulder and fall asleep. I would carry him around for hours and his trust was such that he would never awaken no matter what chores I was doing even making the bed. He would not even awaken when I picked him up from where he lay so as to take him bed. He knew the word ‘mouse’ and would hunt them down when we pointed out where we could hear them hiding. He did his job of getting the vermin out very well. He would curtail my all-nighters with the books by laying on top of them and not budging until I headed off to bed where he would lie full length on my stomach and tuck his head under my neck. He went on long walks with me and would jump up into my arms when he had had enough of walking. He loved playing in leaves and would make a big deal out of jumping in and out of big piles of them.

One night I had called him to come in for the night over and over. Suddenly, I got a feeling of squeezing pressure and I knew something was wrong. I announced out loud to no one in particular that I needed to find Smokey. I looked in the back and side yards finally going out front. I saw him laying in the road. It seems he had been trying to get back home from whatever happened to him and he just could not quite make it. A small hole in his side was his only obvious injury. I dropped to my knees screaming ‘NO!’ His eyes glazed over just as I picked him up so he knew I was there. I put him by my bed one last time and buried him under his favorite tree the next morning. Seven years was just too short a time. I still miss my very dear best friend.


Sheree from GA