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IN MEMORY OF THE BOYS - YUMMY AND TIGGER: They were BAST’s Best
I heard a ”meow” (really more like one hissy fitting terror) and I called out “what’s wrong baby?” More yowls, but coming from my side of the lab locker I was sitting on. I and my crew looked; under-over-around. No cat. I thumped the cabinet and more yowls. I cut off the banding, slid the cabinet off the pallet and there was Miss Kitty (named for Gunsmoke’s dubious saloon professional). She was the biggest cat I had ever seen (over 20lbs-USA), blue with white dots where Siamese are black and very pregnant. She drank my coffee, ate a whole sandwich and clung to me like glue. She was meaner than a junk-yard-dawg and hated all women. I took her home – long story short Kirsten and I delivered her three kittens. Miss Kitty refused to feed the male cats (YUMMY who was Siamese coloured and TIGGER who was a grand Tabby) and she attacked Kirsten each time she came near. Luckily we found a male couple (no females) farming in Wisconsin who wanted a big mean cat, and her mean daughter. ”Love at first bite.”
Yummy understood more English words than any cat or dog I have ever known; words for food; words for damn cat; bedtime; TV; newspaper; nap (naptime, snooze, and forty winks) he’d bee-line to bed or chair once he figured out our direction. He had a vocabulary that was far from delicate. He was a talker and a swearer. He learned sailor talk somewhere and would finish off the comment to me or Kirsten with a hip jump and tail straight up - then shaped like an upside down > J < or question mark (?). We called it being “J-TAILED”. Kirsten has had way over 30 operations and he was her bed nurse. He cleaned her, warmed her, puurrrred nonstop. Very, very, attentive. He was her Boy. He came when called and talked and talked and talked. He loved to have two way conversations with Kirsten. He tended to verbally sass one and all, shredded an ottoman along with Tigger, sat and waited for the right tuna can to meet his purrfection and was truly one of our family for his whole life. A really big, cuddler!
After Yummy passed on, we brought two new kitties (Tristan and Tweetie) into the house and he tolerated them. Played the game of “TAILS” and put up with all their juveniles antics. He and they slept together. A year ago we found Stormy in a sewer and they bonded. Stormy’s penchant in life was cleaning the “old man” from tooth to tail. He was my friend. I talked – he listened and gave an occasional mew of advice and if I was sulking too much, he would “J-tail” me and leave, looking over his shoulder - knowing he was swearing and sassing.
We miss THE BOYS The Kids (our group name for Tristan, Tweetie and Stormy) still look and yowl all over the house for them.
AND SO DO WE!
BAST’s BEST To all who read and understand, that the bond of family has nothing to do with species but love! BAST’s BEST Or may your GOD look kindly down on you!
HAM, KIRSTEN, TRISTAN, TWEETIE and STORMY.
You can read Stormy's Diaries here:
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Now,
take a little trip down memory lane. Almost 20 years ago, I was running a
company that cleaned up after construction workers. We started late in the
mornings so we could work after the crews got through messing things up. I and
four others were sitting in a receiving area, using brand new banded lab
lockers. 
So
we raised THE BOYS from birth, hand fed them and bed slept with them:
Yummy for over 17 years until his repaired colon could not be fixed. Tigger was
until this summer’s touch and go, with kidneys going, heart not working right
and colon also failing. Dr. Grant gave them his best, sent us home with IVs and
pills and shots and misery for Tigger. It got old for him. He finally just
stopped and we gave him peace on 1st August 2011.
Tigger
chose me, He was my bed buddy every day until his joints didn’t like being
touched, when the medicine no longer worked. He was a soft talker and warm bed
buddy. He knew all the words and reacted like Yummy. But was the big silent type
(17lbs-USA). 
We
miss them more than family members that have died. They were our children and at
times we theirs. We truly miss their swearing. Yummy could swear using about 10
sounds and Tigger about 5, and we knew what we were being called and why.