Some people have pictures in their wallets or on their phones of the wives, children, grandchildren, etc. I have one picture of my wife in my wallet and maybe one of my stepson and me. I have several pictures on my phone of a special female who came into my life in May, 2009. It happened like this.

My wife was visiting the place where she lived before she married me, then as now occupied by her son and his girlfriend. One of the many cats that had been there had recently had kittens. The momma cat was run over by a car and died. No one knew where her kittens were.

My wife barely heard a little “meow”, then looked until she saw a poor, starving kitten stumbling from under a storage building. My wife is always for the underdog (cat?), and though she had never been an overt cat lover, she brought two of these starving creatures home.

When she showed me these pitiful animals, I said, “What did you bring those things into this house for?” That was my attempt to have her possibly get rid of them before I got hooked. Too late. I have always been a cat lover.

My wife proceeded to feed the felines with a medicine dropper. She then gave them a nice bath in the kitchen sink. The next morning, the gray kitten was dead, but the other still lived.

Even though starved and close to death, anyone could tell this kitten was a beauty. I learned from a book I saw at Ollie’s that she was a domestic longhair. She is mostly black, with white paws and a white chest, her nose half black and half white. The pads on her feet are pink, and half her nose is black, the other pink. She has always had the most gorgeous whiskers, long and white.

She has always been a house cat. I could literally count on one hand the number of times she has even been outside our house.

My wife named her Precious, and in some part that name was wishful thinking. Precious has come to adore my wife, she is highly tolerant of me, but she wants nothing to do with any other human being. Visitors to our house find it hard to understand how something so beautiful could have such a hateful disposition.

Precious, like all smart little girls, knows how to use her charm to her advantage. She treats me best when she wants food. Sometimes, she will have a bowl full of food, but she wants me to follow her to her bowl so I can see for myself. She will rub my shoe or foot with her chin as I enter the room. She sometimes needs food or water, but more often she only wants me to see she has food and wants to be petted while she eats or drinks.

Sometimes she meets us at the door when we come home, just like a dog would. Some mornings, she sits on the bed in the guest bedroom and watches me get ready for work. She is a terrific shedder, as most domestic longhairs are, so I have the guest bed covered in clear shower curtains so she won’t ruin the comforter. I talk to her as I get ready, telling her what a beautiful creature she is and what a good kitty she is (whether she really is or not). She has a way of stretching out her hind foot and rubbing around my legs when she wants to be petted.

One of my greatest joys is when she cuddles next to my leg as I sit on the loveseat in the living room. At these times she does not want to be petted, and she never gets closer than my kneecap so I can’t touch her. If I do reach down and start petting her, she goes somewhere else so her nap won’t be disrupted. I have sat and slept for hours on that loveseat, not daring to move lest I disturb her rest.

It seems Precious has the ability to sleep at least twenty of every twenty-four hours. She gives new meaning to narcolepsy. She loves strings, shadows and moving lights. She displays an infrequent sense of humor. She has been known to jump from under the table to scare me as I pass by. Another time, when we were hiding in the closet during a threatening wind storm, I felt something on my leg. It was Precious, chasing the laser light that my wife was running up my leg. Once she climbed in the Christmas tree while my wife was decorating it. My wife parted the branches, and what should she see but Precious’ glowing eyes. That was quite a fright for the wife, and got Precious a visit from an unwelcome newspaper.

She is a very well disciplined cat, thanks to my wife. I would let her do anything she wanted, much as William Herndon once said of his law partner Abraham Lincoln. Herndon liked Lincoln, though he and Mrs. Lincoln strongly disliked each other. Mr. Lincoln would sometimes bring his two youngest sons to work with him, and they made such havoc that Herndon said that had they “shat” in Mr. Lincoln’s hat that he would have laughed and thought it clever. (There is no reference for this historical reference—I just know it from several years of reading about Lincoln. I’m sure an Internet search will lead the reader to an appropriate reference.)

I’m ashamed to say I have not always been the kindest to God’s furry, four-footed beasts, but in my older days I have softened. I try to treat Precious in a way that might somehow make up for any ill I ever visited to any other defenseless creature.

I tell my wife to remember than when Precious occasionally wants to bite, especially hair when sprayed with her favorite brand!

I’ve catted around enough the past few weeks. Next week I’ll shift gears and talk about a Sunday School event that awoke a surprising memory from the past.