My favorite fur balls

Before I was born my mother had a dog named Max. He was a black german shepherd. He was very protective of me. He died a long time ago. 

In 1986 my mother found a small black and white kitten sitting on the door steps of the place that she worked at. I was three years old at the time and wanting a kitten more than anything. When my mother brought her home I was ecstatic and quickly chose a name for her. So I gave her the first name I could think of. Samantha. She is the sweetest cat you could have ever met. She hated for me to take bubble baths. She would sit beside the tub and cry for me to get out. Sammy thought that it was hurting me. She would have made a great mother. She washes and takes care of the other cats. You could do just about anything to her and she wouldn't care as long as you loved her. She is still alive today at the age of 17.

Then Thumper came along. We found him outside our home on the night I graduated from kindergarten. The poor little guy was dumped there. He got his name because whenever you sat on the couch he would come and thump you on your head. On my first day of 1st grade thumper was hit by a car. He would never stay inside the house and he liked to play in the middle of the road.

Weeks later the other cat Sammy was still walking the house crying for Thumper. she had no one left to wash.

Next came Perdy. She was found in a sewer. Almost a year after we found her she was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. The vet said she must have picked it up in the sewer. She was a good example of the outcome of people's cruelty. The vet performed surgery but didn't give much hope of her surviving passed five months. After we removed the lump it came back almost immediately. But it was like it never bothered her. She was a happy little kitty. Always wanted to be held and washed by sammy. She played in the water and rode around with me on the floats in the pool. Every time you would touch her she would make this little vrrmp sound and purr. Five months passed and Perdy kept on going. She had a will to survive. We called her our miracle kitty because she outlived the life span that the doctor set for her. Finally, five years later in the fall of 97 the cancer caught up to her and she had to be put to  sleep. That had too have been the hardest thing I ever had to do. She was still purring up to the last minute.

Again Sammy walked the house crying for her surrogate kitten.

The year that I graduated from high school, 2001, my friend told me that she knew someone that was giving away kittens. And I wanted another one. So did she but her mother wouldn't let her keep it. So we had joint custody. When the kittens were born Matt said that he had a girl kitten here that was the runt of the litter and solid black. So we said we wanted it. I wanted to name it Spooky but it being a girl.... Anyway, after it came home to live with me I soon found out that it wasn't a girl. Ashley didn't believe me and I think my exact words were "Unless there is fungus growing between its legs its a boy!" So he became known as Spooky. Fox "Spooky" Mulder. He was the cutest little thing. And so tiny. He liked to play with Bailey, my aunts Maltese. They were the same age and the best of friends. They ate, slept and played together. Spooky loves to be washed by Sammy and curl up next to her. When he was just a baby we gave him a stuffed giraffe and he started sucking on it. A year later he still has to have Mr. Giraffe to suck on.

All the little kitties lined up in a row. 

About two months later my mother finds another kitten at work. And I was like, yes!, I get a scully for my Mulder. I was determined to name her Dana. Prissy didn't take to well to the knew kittens. It took Sammy a few weeks to get used to Spooky But when Dana came home she took one look at her and it was like, "oh well, another one." When Spooky and Dana finally got to know each other they became good friends. And when they would play Dana would start talking back to Spooky, it wasn't really growling it was more like she was sassing him. In fact when I played with her and she would get mad she would make that noise. So I changed her name to Sassy. Sometimes I call her Sassy Dana. This is the first cat to not like Sammy and refuses to be washed by her. Sassy little thing she is.

Sammy is on her last nine life. My poor little baby has a tumor on her lip.

And on January 9, 2003 she passed away. Her grave lies here.