Any cat

Well, that was fun.  One of the companies in the "things I like" post left a comment.   

Now I want some cheese! 

I was thinking today. 

I used to have a favorite type of cat.  Now I don't. 

My first cat was a tabby and white.  Then I had an orange and white tabby, longhair.  A grey and white male.  A diluted calico, a black cat (he was a foster). 

Then we moved to Texas and met a lovely brown tabby.  He lived next door, but came over to visit.  Another move and I met a sweet black and white who gave me her solid gray, and solid black kittens. 

Another move, the kittens came with.  I got them fixed, back when you could do it cheaply.  I had a male (black) and a female (gray).  Shadow, the gray, was more Ron's cat.  She was so happy when he came home from the hospital.  He didn't even know the word for "cat" but he'd call her "Old Gray". 

Midi (short for Midnight) was a criminal thug who stole Ron's fried chicken as he ate it, back when he only had one working arm.  I loved him anyway.   He was a glutton who once ate 4 cans of cat food, then staggered to the door, meowing pitifully to go out. 

Midi died.  Then Shadow died of breast cancer.  I had asked someone to feed them when Ron was in the hospital, a period of months, but he didn't give them water.  I believe they drank out of our very polluted bayou. 

Then I met Bubba, the offspring, I believe, of Midi.  I always loved him.  Passionately.  He was solid black with beautiful green eyes.  He had a little coaxing to get Ron to get on board with adoption, and off we went to the neuter clinic. 

Bubba was OK with being neutered.  He had a good life and lived like a king, not one, but 3 people petting him as he died.  He died of old age and heart failure, he was pretty fat. 

I'd had Bubba for about 2 years when he brought me an all white male, elderly cat.  The poor thing ran away from me, when I had tuna in my hand.  The cat, starving, his fur falling out, took some coaxing but Bubba kept letting him know we were cool.  Frosty finally took a chance on us, got neutered, and became a wonderful cuddle cat. 

He spent hours in my lap every day, and slept with me at night.  He enjoyed Ron, too.  I have some nice photos of Frosty sleeping on Ron, in the sidebar.  Frosty was very old to begin with and he died about 5 years later.  Good years.  Worth every tear. 

Bubba was the only cat for years, until last year.  Ron heard something mewling in the bushes.  He asked me to help it; a tiny brown tabby kitten.  I gave her a good meal under Ron's chair, as he sat in it. 

"I want to pet it!" he whined.  I knew we'd be adopting her.  We got her fixed, shots,  etc.  Ear mites done. 

We had a solid black cat, and a brown spotted tabby, for about a year.  Bubba died and I was chosen by Torbie, at the shelter.  Torbie is a brown and orange tortiseshell tabby, also known as a "Torbie", hence, her name.  She appears mostly brown, and the girls absolutely look related.  People tend to view Torbie as the "Mom" cat, which is funny, since she is older. 

I saw an adorable brown tabby on facebook, and thought, "I love brown tabbies now".  Then I realized I love any cat, because God made them so well.