I thought it was about time that I share Trouble's story. It's a bit long and sentimental, so feel free to skip to the cute pictures at the end if you wish
When I was a little girl my great grandmother (affectionately called Nanny) was one of the most important people in my life. She was my hero--a truly amazing woman, fiercely independent and endlessly compassionate. Nanny was famous for taking in strays; people, animals, you name it. In her lifetime she cared for over 100 foster children, and countless animals.
During her last years Nanny was ready to go--she used to pray every night that the Lord would take her. Ironically, it was one of her beloved kitties who ultimately set her free; she was carrying him down the steps into the basement when he became startled and scratched her, causing her to lose her balance and fall. At the time, Nanny had been feeding a stray calico named Marigold...
Shortly after Nanny's passing my aunt (who lived with her) noticed that Marigold was looking a little fat. She took her into the house and a few days later she gave birth. Of the litter one kitten stood out: he was the only orange kitten, the only male kitten, and the first one to do just about everything. He opened his eyes first, started wandering around first, and got into trouble first. Between my family, my aunt and my grandmother, we planned to keep as many of the kittens as possible, and I got to have the first pick. Naturally, I chose the little orange fellow and named him Trouble (excuse the cheesy name, I was young, haha).
Of course, Trouble was the one that everyone wanted. In fact, my grandmother even offered to purchase any purebred kitten I wanted, if she could only keep Trouble. I was no fool: I said absolutely not! And I'm glad that I did.
Trouble has never met a creature he didn't love; he used to sleep curled up between our bullmastiff and our scottish terrier. Despite being an excellent hunter, Trouble rarely killed animals, but rather would carry them inside and leave them there completely unharmed (I can't tell you how many of his little birds I've rescued).
He isn't a velcro cat--he is independent and likes to come and go as he pleases. However, if he is ever needed, if you are sad or hurt, Trouble is there like it's his job. Last year I dislocated my knee and was couch-bound for a week. Despite a strong preference for the great outdoors, Trouble left my side only to eat (and do his business of course). He knew, without being told, that he should stay off my lap and instead just sat there beside me purring and gazing at me with what I call his "lovey kitten eyes".
At thirteen years old Trouble is the last of Marigolds' kittens still with us. He lives with my parents and his best friend Kyle the dog. I had wanted to take him when I moved, but he simply could not adjust to an indoors-only lifestyle, so I now have two lovely kitties of my own. As much as I love my kitties, no cat could ever replace Trouble. To me he will always be Nanny's cat, her last gift to me. And now for pictures!
Kitten (what a handsome young man!):
With an owie
With his favorite blanky (fat boy now):
With his mum: