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When I was 5, my parents decided to get me and my brother (who was eight) a kitten. She was a calico and I called her Cuddles (ok, not the BEST name but I was 5!). She was a nutty kitten. We called her "killer cat". When she was 9 months old, my mom, brother and I went out of town for the weekend to visit my grandma about an hour away. When we returned home, we walked into the house and my dad was sitting in the kitchen, bawling his brains out (it was the first time I remember him crying). He said that Cuddles had congestive heart failure and had died while we were away. It was very sad...

So, a while later (I was almost 6), my parents decided to get another kitten. He was a brown tabby with white paws (like Marbles but not a classic tabby) and we called him Boots. I think we got him when he was about 10 weeks old. My brother used to carry him around the neighborhood to show the kids our new kitten. I was out playing one day when I saw him with Boots so I walked toward him. Out of nowhere this HUGE husky ran up to my brother, grabbed Boots out his arms, threw the kitten up in the air and crushed it and killed it - right in front of us. It was horrible! The worst part about this story, though, is that sometimes when I tell it to explain why I am afraid of dogs, people will LAUGH. Can you imagine?!?! What kind of sick, horrible person would laugh at this story?!? We only had Boots for two weeks.

A while after that (I was now 6), my parents decided to get a cat this time. We went down to the pound and there was this really pretty brown/tan longhaired male cat that was about 2 years old. We called him Pussywillow. I can't remember much about him because he was never home. He would always run back to the pound which was about a kilometer from our house through a forest. Usually he'd come back but sometimes we'd have to go back to the pound to get him. He'd disappear for weeks at a time during the 8 months that we had him. But one day he just didn't return...he must have gotten caught by one of the coyotes that lives in the forest...

Okay, you'd think my parents would stop trying to get us a cat! But when I was 7, on my brother's 10th birthday, they got us Mitzi, a brown tabby female kitten. She was 8 weeks old and now she is 19 years. Fourth time's a charm!
 

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That is the saddest story I have heard in a long time! :cry: :cry: :cry:
And I know what you mean about the insensitive people. Once I went out of the house and my neighbour's kitten was outside dying after being run over. It was so upsetting. And when I told people why I was feeling sad that day, the most common response was 'So what? It's only a cat!'
 

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-sigh-

I know what you mean...but my story is also a happy one because we have Mitzi! And she is 19! And we love her!!

tanyuh
 

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That is such a sad story! I'm very happy for you that Mitzi is still with you and for such a long prosperous life! I do hate people who are insensitive and especially towards cats. Cats are such wonderful little beings, the people who talk down on them just are heartless sometimes and not understanding at all! :?
 
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