The True Story of Grandma-Kitty

The Grandma Cat

Due to public outcry (that’s you, Neil), there’s the story about the “Grandma Kitten”.

In 2004, my grandfather was fighting a loosing battle with cancer. Not long before he passed away at home in May, a little white kitten showed up at the house. It was a stark-white male who had a strange infatuation with my grandmother, so we of course decided that it was the reincarnation of my grandfather – just a little early.

Three years later, “Dad-Cat” is still there and ruling the roost.

Since Grandpa’s death, my grandma has been steadily deteriorating with Alzheimer’s disease. At this point her mind is pretty well gone, but, you know how Alzheimer’s can go.

Anywho, about a month ago another kitten showed up. This one was a cute little calico female. So, of course we decided that maybe this little kitten was really a pre-reincarnation of my grandmother – (before you decide that we’re absolute ghouls, I should point out the fact that she’s in such horrible shape right now mentally and physically, passing on would be the best thing for her. Her mind is long outliving her body. Alzheimer’s sucks bad.).

Apparently “Grandpa-Cat” decided early on that new “Grandma-Cat” was such a threat to his domain that he has attacked her on every possible occasion. After one of the last attacks, he injured her to the point that there was an infected half-golf ball sized puss-filled boyle on her side. Before issuing “farm sympathy” on the poor kitten my mom and I decided to hold her down and smear some antibiotic cream on her. That night Stacie, Mollie and I went home, and the next morning the kitten was on our back porch.

I applied a little more antibiotic cream and some hydrocortisone cream a couple more times, and as of last weekend the wound was healed and my “kitty Grandma was living happily on my back porch.

There’s the story.