My big eyed beauty Tabby girl

Where the heck does the time go? How is it possible the little kitten I saw get run over in the middle of the road that cold Friday February afternoon and stopped to help has already been with us four years?

I was thinking it was only three. Even that seems impossible. But she had to have come into our lives in 2007. In 2008 I started dealing with other dramas. I know she was here for those, so that means we got her the year before. Which makes her four.

Ah, my little Lady Tabitha, Tabernathy, Tabberkins Pryor. (I gave her Wayne’s last name because it flows better when I say her whole name.) What a disaster she was when we first got her!

Talk about one wild kitten…who was still just a kitten really, not even a year old, but unbeknownst to us she was preggers. Likely she was lying dazed and confused in the middle of the road like she’d been because she’d just finished doing the deed. (Or getting the deed done to her. I’m not sure she was old enough to look for nookie without nookie being introduced to her.)

Anyway, when she started acting nuts towards Mr. Meow to the point of unrelentingly harassing him and not letting him go anywhere in the house, we took her to the vet. Maybe being spayed would help. That’s when they discovered the babies.

So she had an abortion, got fixed, and came home and got an infection that nearly killed her. After being rushed back to the vet and staying there two days, she was free to come home and start tormenting Mr. Meow again the moment she started feeling better.

Poor Mr. Meow…he spent the first six months of her arrival cowering behind the chair in our living room. He had to sneak to his litter box. If she knew he had to go, Tab would often sprawl out in front of the nearest one, forcing Meow to go to the other, farther away one. And then she’d lay in wait until he was done and chase him back to his hidey hole.

Oh man, she was ruthless! Mr. Meow hated her!

But now? They still fight. Especially over who gets to lay in my lap on the couch or who’s turn it is to snuggle with me in bed. But they’re also buds and play pals.

They've learned to share!

And she still loves her Murphy as much, if not more, than the first moment she saw him. Murph is definitely her favorite brother and the love of her life.

She's purrfectly content sharing with Murph. Always has been.

"What are you two doing up there? Stay out of trouble!"

Except for maybe her Papa. If his lap’s available she’ll gladly relinquish mine to Mr. Meow to perch in Pop’s lap. She is definitely a Daddy’s Girl!

Nappin' with Papa is Tab's favorite thing!

Tab, I know you can’t read but I’m writing this for you anyway. I love you. I knew the moment I swooped you into my arms and rushed you to my car that you were my baby girl. You were the one that made me understand how moms who have just given birth and get to hold their babies in their arms for the first time must feel. Such a rush of warmth and unconditional love.

Thank you for being such a special girl. Thank you for all the love and laughter you bring into our lives. Happy birthday, baby! We love you!

Perched atop her scratcher I got her for her 3rd bday with a toy she got at Christmas

Sunbaking beauty girl

Lounging around in the sun room...sunbaking of course!

"MY hoop!"

Part of her toy collection

Lady Tabitha, Tabernathy, Tabberkins Pryor - my baby sweetie girl!

Mr. Meow is now the tubeless wonder! Yesterday at his checkup he had continued to maintain his weight by eating on his own with no goo tube feedings from me. Dr. Stumb felt it was time to remove his feeding tube.

Hallelujah!

They were able to remove it right then and there. Later today I can take his bandage off. (He pretty much was ready to have it come off last night. He shredded it pretty good. I think only the tape part is left. I believe he managed to unravel all of the gauze and pull it out on his own.)

I’m a little hesitant to see the hole in the side of his neck for the first time. I’m just SOOOOO immensely thankful we had an option like the feeding tube to try and that Dr. Stumb didn’t automatically write him off as having cancer and being a goner. She at least tried to treat his for the Tri-itisis, and it seems that was a good gamble as it must’ve been what he had. If he had cancer he should’ve kept on deteriorating.

I can’t thank her or the staff at Southside Animal Hospital enough. All the vets are great there. Dr. Singleton saved Tabby’s life back when she got an infection after her spay surgery. She became our go to vet after that. Both Murph and Tab love her, but not Mr. Meow. (Except that’s not unusual. He really doesn’t like anyone.)

But when Dr. Singleton was out over Thanksgiving and Dr. Stumb was on duty, that’s who we rushed Mr. Meow in to see. He didn’t fuss as much with her. I wrote it off that it was just how sick he was.

But during this feeding tube trial (which has called for multiple vet trips), it’s become apparent of all the vets he’s ever seen, he fusses least with Dr. Stumb.

So…since she can manage him she’ll be his vet. Murph and Tab will still see Dr. Singleton.

But I have to wonder…is it a Courtney thing? Dr. Stumb’s first name is also Courtney. Sort of funny.

I’m just glad he’s still allive and kicking. The feeding tube was sure an adventure, but…it worked! I’m very thankful we had both the time and money to pursue that route. Even if Mr. Meow lives to be 25 (WOW! That’d be some kind of miracle wouldn’t it?), it’s going to be way too soon to say goodbye to him.

Others only get to see his cranky, ornery side. But he’s my little kitty soul mate. He’s definitely left his paw prints all over my heart. So glad he’s still around!

I got to thinking on my walk this morning, “Holy crumb. Twice now modern medicine’s saved my life.”

The first time was when I was born. I was breech. They had to perform a C-section to get me out. If I’d been born in a time when they didn’t know how to do it, or hadn’t perfected it…I wouldn’t be here.

Then, most recently, with my hitchhiker.

It really rocked me when I realized that twice now, just by benefit of the time period when I was born, there was medicine to save me.

That’s a really humbling thought. And kind of empowering.

I’m here for some reason. I don’t know what it is, but I’m meant to be here.

Either that or I’m part cat and I’ve now used at least two of my nine lives. (I can think of a couple other close calls, just not as dramatic as the breech or the hitchhiker, though.)

Wild.