I've often said that our home in Granbury was a dropping off place for homeless animals. During our eleven years of life on the "Toad Farm", my wife Pat and I have had more than our share of pets. We took in many animals that nobody else in the neighborhood wanted. And from time to time, a stray wandered in and captured our hearts. Today's "tail" is the story of a kitten who stole the heart of our pig-tailed monkey, Butch.
One cloudy afternoon after I returned home from work, I noticed Butch in his big outside cage holding something close to his chest. Upon investigation, I saw that it was a tiny female calico kitten. It looked to be less than a month old. I tried to separate them so I could take the kitten inside and let Pat give it some milk, but Butch wouldn't give up his "baby".
Deciding to humor him, I had my wife warm some milk and then I placed it inside his cage. Butch wouldn't come close to the bowl until I stepped outside of his cage. Butch was a pretty smart monkey. He knew I'd get the kitten if I could and he wasn't taking any chances with me.
Watching closely from a discreet distance, Pat and I saw Butch gently set the kitten down next to the bowl of milk. He wouldn't entirely release his hold as she greedily lapped up the milk. Then Pat went into the house and brought out a bowl of cat food which I placed inside of Butch's cage. The kitten was hungry too, for it ate almost the whole bowl of food.
I couldn't figure out why Butch was so caught up with that kitten. He kept it close to him the rest of the day. The next day was the same way. So at feeding time we fed Butch and "Miss Murphy" (My dear wife had already named it) inside the big cage.
As the days passed into weeks and the weeks into months, a strange bond seemed to grow between these two pets. They were together all of the time. At night, I watched Miss murphy snuggle up in Butch's arms, purring contentedly. During the day, Miss Murphy played on the tree limbs that I had placed inside the cage for Butch to swing and play on.
Butch still carried Miss Murphy around like a baby, even though she was now several months old and had grown into a big cat. But she always seemed to enjoy it.
On many occasions through the years I watched as Butch would de-bug her. She liked that too. I finally came up with a theory. I had given Butch so much love in the years that I had raised him that he in turn had much love to give. And so it was that he poured out all the affection on Miss Murphy that he would have given to his own monkey child.
Several months later, I noticed a "new kid" on the block -- a big yellow tom cat. He seemed to appear from nowhere and just hung around. When I tried to coax him to me, he would run off into the woods. Later he would appear again and watch Miss Murphy very intently. I knew then that I'd better have her "fixed" or else Butch would wind up losing a play mate.
During the past several months, Butch had finally gotten use to Miss Murphy going in and out of the cage on her own. I had fixed up a small door for her to use. So the next time she came out I caught her and carried her to the vet.
I knew what that big yellow tom cat had in mind, but we had enough pets now without adding to the list. Besides, I didn't want Miss Murphy running off and leaving Butch for some fly-by-night tom.
Later that day, I brought Miss Murphy back and placed her in Butch's cage. She was a little sore, but would heal nicely in a few days. eventually the big yellow tom cat lost interest in Miss Murphy, and wandered off.
Miss Murphy and Butch stayed as close to each other as a family can get. They never tired of each other' company. Butch finally got over his fear of losing her. They stayed together for about ten years.
Butch seemed pretty much the same as the day he "found" Miss Murphy, but she had grown old and there wasn't much energy left in her. Early one morning, I heard Butch "Oohing" in a very saddened voice. Walking up to his cage, I saw that Miss Murphy had died.
Butch was carrying her much as he always had but now she wasn't responding to him. He sniffed her and gently shook her. But she didn't wake up. He carried her over to me and "Oohed". My heart was breaking for him.
I tried to take her, but Butch wasn't ready to give her up. He carried her around all day long. Throughout the day, pitiful "Oohs" came from his cage.
The next morning, when I walked up to Butch's cage, Miss Murphy was lying on the ground next to the cage door. Butch was at the other end of his cage with his back turned to me. He never even turned around when I opened the cage door and closed it quietly again.
I buried Miss Murphy behind the house under a huge shady oak tree whose tree limbs spread out and shaded my pet cemetery. During the eleven years we lived there I've had the sorrowful job of burying some wonderful pets.
Butch eventually got over his sadness. He may have lost something very dear to him, but, hey, he still had me. Standing on the back porch that evening, I saw Butch sitting alone at the top of his cage, quietly looking toward the big oak tree.
Duce is the penname of Carman J.W. Vance at the Crest Yard in Fort Worth.
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