 Raggedy Andy
I moved into this house in Springfield, Oregon a little over 3 years ago, from a tiny hamlet up the McKenzie River called McKenzie Bridge, about 50 miles east of here. There were occasional strays upriver, which is where I began my cat ranching activities (saving the needy) in 1989. But there were so many stray and abandoned cats here in town I was appalled. The back and front yards were rich in felines. Many I was able to save and get adopted at the local no-kill facility; some eluded me and disappeared over time. I guess they moved on, died of disease or were killed by trucks and coyotes. There's a greenbelt along the river nearby where coyotes hang, and I understand coyotes love cat meat. Some I adopted, like 8 of the 9 I have now. One in particular has been around from the beginning. I named him Raggedy Andy because he was so, well - raggedy. He had mottled gray and white long hair which was stained and ungroomed. He was gaunt. The tips of his ears were nicked up. His lower left fang was missing, his eyes were always gummy, he limped on his front left leg, and he was showing signs of arthritis, like the twisting outward of his paws. When he first saw me he ran for cover, of course, but over time he grew less fearful and would come within a few yards and cock his head to the side and stare at me as if puzzled that a human would be so kind as to intentionally put food out for him. In the last 6 months he actually would come up to the bowl as I set it down, totally accepting me as non threatening, although he'd give a little hiss just to let me know he was no sucker so I'd better not be a fool. He go to be real regular for breakfast and dinner, and the other cats generally ignored him and he ignored them, so all was pretty well in his world. I knew he was sleeping pretty good for a feral cat because sometimes he'd show up with tufts of pink insulation material on his fur, so he was smart enough to find a warm nest. Obviously he'd survived many a winter, although not in the comfort of a human bed. Andy hasn't shown up for 2 weeks now. I suspect he's "gone home" to fields of catnip and banquets of tuna. I keep a journal of all the strays and he's now officially listed as deceased. I just wanted to memorialize the poor guy somewhere, even though he wasn't someone's baby. When I go home myself I hope he's among the many cat spirits that may be waiting to greet me. I admire and respect his strength of character for survival in a harsh world where he counted for nothing. Be at peace old boy - there's a place where even you are a treasure. | 
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