Taz the Cat

Dannie has been lurking about with her camera again. This time she got some terrific photos of Taz the Cat (as opposed to Tazz the Dog, AKA Swamp Dog).


Tazi is now somewhere around 11 years old. He was part of an abandoned litter of kittens and their mama. They’d been dumped in a field in a cardboard box, and the mother cat was run over by a car within a day or two. It was in a rural area and a blind woman was led out into a field by her determined Golden Retriever to rescue them. They were only a couple of weeks old at best, and she and her dog raised them on bottles.

When I went to see the kittens, all four of them tumbled across the floor to see me. I sat down with them all, and they climbed all over me, as normal kittens do. Then they got distracted by each other and tumbled off across the floor again. All except one little tabby and white male. He perched on my shoulder, batting at my car keys and purring in my ear. When I stood up, he climbed inside my sweater and purred more. I went home with him, still in my sweater, purring. Got out of the car, and he stayed tucked in, still purring. He spent the next three days clinging to my shoulder, purring. All these years later, and that cat is still devotedly purring in my ear.

He is too big for my shoulder now, so he likes to sleep on my chest when I am sleeping. He walks on my keyboard when I am typing. Leaps on my back when I am cleaning stalls. And still, at his age, skitters sideways across the yard and up and down tree trunks with his tail in a crazy corkscrew.

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