04.29.2003 | 9:52 pm

Today was like this run back and forth to the computer lab day. We went to the computer lab in the morning�our regular time. The computer expert, Mr. Scheibly, former 6th grade teacher, was there to teach the squirrels the finer points of keyboarding. Specifically, he taught them how to use the shift key to make capital letters. Poor kiddos�some of them still don�t get it. Later on in the afternoon, I had signed up for an extra go-round in the lab, so off we went once again. The squirrels were let FREE to do whatever their little rodent hearts desired. I was trying to catch up on some journal reading. (Shhh, don�t tell!)The soon to be second graders are really going to town on taking their AR tests, reading, typing stories, and all things educational and technical. I had run out of steam, frankly, to try and keep pace with them this afternoon. I think the antibiotic the dentist has me on for my recent root canal is slowing me down. I know it has definitely upset my intestines�.gurgle, gurgle.

At the end of the day, Jordan's mother brought in his kitty for show and tell. All of a sudden, the kids were asking me about my cat, Baby, who died about a year ago. I think they got on the subject when Jordan�s mother started explaining how they had gotten the cat from the pound and it had needed shots. Earlier in the year I had told the kids that Baby was found in the alley behind my house. He was already a carrier of feline leukemia, so we just kept him and hoped for the best. We were not able to vaccinate him against feline leukemia.

The Story of Baby
One afternoon, when my sons were 5th and 8th graders, they came in to tell me they had found a bunny in the back yard. What they thought was a bunny turned out to be a scrawny, bob-tailed kitten with huge ears. They cornered him and brought him to my loving arms. I took him in the house and started the process of rehabilitation into the land of the living, for he was so skinny and dehydrated, he could not have lasted but a few more days. His poor little digestive system was so weak that any food I gave him just sailed right through him and squirted out his hinny end in a matter of a few minutes. After about a week, he finally started to settle into life in our cat haven.

For the next 12 years we had Baby as our most favorite, best dumb, kitty. We figured he was somewhat mentally challenged because of his deprived nutritional start in life. He soon made up for lost eating opportunities by becoming a huge 14 pound fat-cat. And, because he didn�t have a tail, he resembled a piggy in bad need of a girdle to keep his flab in check. I, of course, was his favorite person. Every afternoon at about 3:00, he would wait atop the couch for me to come home from school. As soon as I would enter the house, he would immediately run to the food dish and proceed to do his �can dance.� That was our title for Baby�s begging and saying, "I want to be fed a can of food," dance. He would rub up against my legs, follow me about, and generally trip me up until I gave in and fed him. He NEVER waited till dinner time for his dinner. He always had dinner at about 4:00 every afternoon. After he ate, he would always come and find me and jump on my lap for some pets and a good purr. Although hubby never claimed ownership of Baby, he loved him just as much as the kids and I. Baby was also a bed hog. He managed to always take his half in the middle, so to speak. Because he was so fat, there was no doubt when he made a flying leap up on to the bed, that he had arrived. He made the bed rumble like an earthquake.

Baby had a funny way if relieving stress. When a normal cat is angry or nervous, swish goes the tail! Because Baby didn�t have a tail, he had to find other ways to deal with his kitty stress. Baby would lick his fat belly incessantly. Sometimes he would lick and lick, until the fur was gone and he was down to bare skin. Then, of course, scabs would develop. This habit would come and go with the rhythm of his life. I could never tell just why or when he would begin to lick his tummy raw. When he would lick his tummy, he resembled Jabba the Hutt, from Star Wars in his appearance. One time I took him to the vet for something else, and mentioned the problem to the doctor. She offered to put him on Prozac. *he he*

About half why through Baby�s life, I discovered this book by Patricia Polacco. It too, was about a cat with no tail. I reveled in the likeness I found in the illustrations of Tush, the tail-less kitty in the story. From that time on, I always read the tale of Tush the cat to my classes, and then would add the story of my own kitty with no tail. My students always loved hearing about Baby, my kitty with no tail.

Last year, about April 1, I began to have a funny feeling that I would not have Baby for too much longer. Two nights in a row, he escaped, and went out prowling all night long. Each morning, after I found him, I would scold him and put him on my bed as I left for school. Then, he slowly started to look and act ill. When he began running a fever, I knew the feline leukemia had become active, and that he was not going to make it. I just knew. I took him into the vet and he got a big injection of antibiotics. He was so sick he couldn�t even make it to his tinkle box. After about a week he rallied, but began to slide downhill after a few days. The Saturday morning I took into the doctor for the last time, I somehow knew that it was what Heavenly Father wanted me to do, to keep him from suffering. Baby kept looking at me with the eyes that had always trusted me and relied on me. I said good bye to him and let him go. I brought him home and we had a kitty funeral for him. He is buried under an old cottonwood tree in the side yard. Baby was the best, dumb, no-tail kitty ever.

catsnapples~ in first grade and at life

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