{{{This section reserved for a picture of my beloved cat, Sheba, who passed from this world on December 4, 1991. I will have to scan a picture of Sheba to put here. I will write the history of Sheba's life, as it is quite interesting for the life of a cat! Please stay tuned for those updates.}}}
Sheba was a very special cat, as cats go. She was born under a mobile home on Lake Brownwood, Texas, in August, 1978. Her mother and father were wild domestic cats - that is, not belonging to anyone and very afraid of humans. When Sheba was just big enough to walk good, her mother would coax her and her siblings out and down the board walk to the boat dock where my father was dipping up perch to use as trot line bait. Daddy had fed Sheba's mother fish as she grew fatter each day before her kittens were born. So Sheba's mother was making sure that her kittens learned how to mooch a meal from him.
When Sheba was about seven or eight weeks old, she and her siblings crawled into the engine compartment of my parents' Suburu - "Little Blue Sue", the engine still being warm from a recent trip to town. Unbeknownst to my parents, they got into "Little Blue Sue" for a trip to the bowling alley. On the way, they saw one kitten jump from the car and run away about a half mile from home. The next day when Daddy was dipping fish for bait and Sheba came to mooch a meal, Daddy noticed that all the skin and hair was missing from her tail. She was the only kitten who came for fish that day or ever again. The other two were gone forever!
Just a week later, my son, James and I came to stay with my parents for a while. It didn't take him long to coax Sheba into his arms. When we first arrived, she was so wild, she ran when she saw a person looking at her. James named her Sheba. Within a week, she was following James everywhere he went, walking when he walked, sitting when he stopped. One day James came in and said, "Mother, we need to get Sheba's tail fixed. Everytime she sits down, she scrapes it on the concrete and it hurts her." I told James to call the vet to find out how much it would cost to get it fixed.
Keep in mind that James was not quite 16 years old at this time. He went to the phone, looked up the numbers of the local vets and started calling. He called the first one and they said they would have to look at it to tell him. When he called the second one, the lady he talked to said it would cost $35.00. Holding the phone away from his ear with a look of shock on his face, he repeated, "$35.00." I chimed in with, "For $35.00 I will do it myself!" James covered the mouthpiece of the phone and asked if I was serioius. I nodded my head. "Thank you, ma'am, I will call you back if we decide to have this done." James said into the phone.
James caught Sheba, Daddy supplied the ether (his bowler's thumb remedy), Mother was my surgical nurse and we proceeded with the surgery. First James held a cotton ball saturated with the bowler's thumb under Sheba's nose, when she was sufficiently groggy, we wraped her in a bath towel plus a bath mat so she could scratch us. Only her poor, pitiful little tail was exposed. I cut her tail off and sewed the end with fishing line.
James took Sheba to Daddy's workshop and sat with her in his arms until she came out of the "anesthetic". Shortly after she came around, he came in the house and aked for some ice cubes. "What for?" I asked. He replied, "You know how they won't let you eat after surgery and just give you ice cubes to suck on? I want to give some to Sheba, she might be thirsty."
When we first cut Sheba's tail off, it was about 3/4 of an inch long. When she fully matured, it was about as long as my thumb. She carried proudly like a flag. Sheba was a very special cat.
Crickett is a Manx acquired from my son, Tony; when Tony was breeding Manx cats. She was born on February 14, 1990. I was driving a truck for PST flatbed division when I got Crickett from Tony. She was put on a truck when she was less than 3 months old. At that time, I also had Sheba.
As you can see, Crickett is almost all black! Can't see any other color - she hides her white belly very well. She was born with 3 white diamonds; one under her chin and the other two on her belly. Crickett has had an interesting life, and traveled into every state in the Lower 48 and parts of Canada.
Crickett walks on a leash very well and is a great conversation starter in truck stops. People are amazed that she walks on the leash among all the noise created by the trucks.
K. K. (or KK, for short) is a Maine Coon Cat. She was born on June 1, 1994. She was just a little ball of fuzz when I found her in a pet store/lock and key shop in Dodge City, Kansas. I fell in love with that pretty, innocent little face. She was only 7 weeks old and the only cat I ever bought in my lifetime of having cats as pets. I was driving for Goodway Transport when I went to the lock and key shop to get an extra key made for my truck. That's when KK captured my heart. The name of the pet store was Kansas Kritters, thus the name K. K.(short for Kansas Kritter).
KK is more reserved than Crickett. She is a very shy little girl and refined in her actions. She also walks on a leash, however, she does a slink step more than just walking. Outside the truck or house is just not KK's domain.