A short history of cats at Casa Shoehead

With the tragic loss of Vanilla Bean "Beansie" this week, I wanted to include a short history of my cats in recent years.
It started in 2003, when I first met the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead. She had one cat, Starva Wazzoo Kitty. After we got married, we saw a tiny kitten in a cage at our vet's, with a sign that stated "My name's Missy Cleopatra. I was found in a pillowcase in a dumpster. Could you please take me home?" So we did. That was around June of 2006. She and Starva didn't get along with each other at all, but we did keep them separate. Soon after, around August of 2006 or maybe a little later, a couple of alley cats started hanging around our little courtyard. One we called Asparagus, or just "Gus", the other had a crazy broken tail, and we called him "Cat-tail". Gussie sorta went away, but cat-tail always faithfully came around to our front door looking for food. Then, when we ended up moving to Firebaugh, we couldn't bear to leave cat-tail behind to face the dangers of--who knows what--so we loaded him up and drove him north.
Shortly after arriving at our new home, The Lovely Mrs. Shoehead noticed a little runt cat at her auntie's house that nobody wanted. he was a little grey tiger-stripe, and we took him home and called him Buster Brown. He never really felt at home, and was kind of a loner, although Cat-tail looked after him like a little brother. Eventually, Buster moved out of the house into the back garage. So we were a happy little family of 4 cats until July or August of 2008, when I looked out and saw a tiny orange kitten on my back porch. He was so malnourished and sickly, we took him in and named him Vanilla Bean Kittybone Catva, or Beans. He was a rebel much like Buster, and was always trying to escape, but finally he settled in to life in the house. Buster never really adapted, and stayed out in the back garage for months. I kept feeding him, but I went out of town for several days in April 2009, and when I got back, Buster wasn't around. I believe he moved on to another location. All went seemingly fine, when in October, I came home to find Starva dead! It was very traumatic for me. I buried her in a little rock garden in our yard. After that, the remaining three cats sorta bonded and hung out together. They were very cute, the three of them laying down sleeping all in the same direction on top of the dryer! This kept up until this week, when I found poor little Beansie dead and wet in the front yard. Now I'm down to 2 cats! I really do miss a house full of cats. I hope some needy cat finds us...

Starva Wazzoo Kitty (ca. 1995-2009)

Yesterday was quite a traumatic day for me, good readers. As I returned from the library, where I blog, tweet, and network, I walked in to my house to see our oldest cat, Starva, laying half-on/half-off the dog bed in the living room. I called out, "Hi, Starva!", as I realized that something didn't look quite right. She'd never taken a position like that before, and her fur looked kinda matted, and it didn't look like she was even breathing... I felt her, and she was dead.
I immediately called my estranged wife, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead, to give her the awful news. She's had Starva since the mid 90's; this little kitty was always there as long as I'd known my wife. She was devastated.
I let one of our other cats, Missy Cleopatra, who's known Starva for three years and had gotten as close to friends as starva would allow (she was a pretty aloof cat), and Missy looked curiously, and sniffed around . It looked like Missy was trying to feel for Starva's breath. There seemed to be a moment of understanding, as Missy slowly walked away.
There was no other choice, being the animal lover that I am, and absolutely devoted to my pets, but to bury her, and conduct somewhat of a funeral. I dug the grave (boy am I outta shape!), I wrapped her in a towel, and I enclosed a paper containing her full name, and a note that I appreciated having her in my life, and that her mommy loved her, and missed her a lot. I also placed two cat toys with her to play with in the great beyond. then, I finished with a prayer thanking God for the joy Starva gave us, and protection over my other pets, and she was buried. I tried to give her as much reverence and love as I could.
A combination of the exertion of digging a grave and the trauma and stress of finding her body and loss of a treasured pet left me drained. I slept all afternoon! I thought about feeding her, and listening to her meows, and I felt sad. The house seems a little bit emptier now.
One of the things that struck me about the whole incident is when I carried her little towel-wrapped body over to the gravesite. I cradled her head and tried to be as loving as I could. Her little face didn't quite look peaceful, but looked a bit in pain. There was some blood and tufts of fur laying about, but there was no mutilation. I don't think the dog actually killed the cat per se, I believe it was just a dog/cat fight--one of many--but her 14 year-old heart just couldn't take it.
So good-bye, Starva... you were an awesome little cat, and thanks for all the joy you've brought us over the years.
(The irony of this picture is that she's pictured on the dog bed that I her body on...)