Until Whitey came along, I felt no affection for my daughters’ cats and kittens.
I was going through my hard drive when I saw the photo of Whitey above wearing a dolphin pendant that only my daughter Sam could have placed around his neck. Whitey is one of the two kittens from Bebe’s second litter. My daughters named him Whitey because of his pure white coat save for a ginger spot on his tail. He was a frisky kitten, playful and very curious. We’ve had so many kittens in the house because Bebe is a prolific breeder. But Whitey was the only one who gravitated towards me. He would curl up beside me on the couch, he would sleep on my foot pillow under my study table, he would follow me around…
You know, I was tolerant of my daughters’ pets but I was not exactly enamored of them. But after weeks of this kind of affection that Whitey showed, I started feeling that something was missing when he was out of sight. We had no househelp at the time and, on weekdays, it was just Whitey and myself in the house since his mother was often out probably on trysts with the neighbor’s he-cat whom my daughters call Blackie. Whitey and I got along fine.
Then, one morning, my husband found him curled behind the fridge. He wouldn’t come out. A few hours later, he was dead. We’ll never know what happened to him. He was playing on day, and the next day, well… I have never ever cried over the loss of a pet but I cried when Whitey died. I still miss him sometimes.