Tom
Growing up, we lived in a simple 2-bedroom house off of the Peace River. My Dad (Grandpa by blood) would go fishin’ a lot. One night, he caught a few nothing fish usually used for crab bait... suddenly got very tired, so he left them lay in the lawn. Mind you, my father was a major neat freak; so why he did this I will never know.
That night, something came and ate those fish.
It was a little kitten. He was white with large brownish spots, with dark black spots inside of the brown ones. So, my dad fed him. This was no ordinary cat, he was as wild as cats come. Over time, he let my dad touch him, and over a really long period of time, he let me touch him, too, even though I was about 6 or 7 years old and would make any stray wild cat very nervous. He was small for a cat, and he couldn't meow, these weird little hisses would come out... and he couldn't purr either. But you knew he was happy. He would sit and blink until he fell asleep.
We came to call him... Tom. I think, remembering my first pet, I think I am going to cry. Shit, I am crying... over a dead cat.
This cat was crazy. People would pull into the driveway in their car and he would be gone for at least 3 hours AFTER they left. Nobody touched him but Dad, Mom, and me. He let me dress him in doll clothes and even give my dolls horseback rides. I would call him when he was gone, TOM... I would yell as loud as I could. He always came, running, even if it took him a half an hour, he came. And he would lay in my lap, while I would tell him everything on my mind. He was... my friend.
We had him for years. Sometimes he would disappear for months. God, I would get so worried. Finally he would crawl home all beat up and clawed up. But no stray cat could hurt our Tom. Nobody could touch him, he was the area bad ass.
One day we went on a summer camping trip for several months. The people where we lived would feed him when we were gone. We came home, and there was a note on our door.
Tom had been put to sleep. He had feline Leukemia, the pound took him and put him to sleep.
I was about 12 when he died. I remember my dad sitting me down and telling me, and I remember falling apart over this cat.
Last night, I dreamed of him, and all day I couldn't get him off my mind. I miss that cat. Wanted to share it. That's all.
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this picture sorta reminds me of him
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9:11:55 PM 
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