As part of our celebration leading up to Diesel Day, I thought I’d share a bit about how I got to be a former Midwestern shelter cat living the good life on the East End of Long Island.
The beginnings of my life are foggy to me. I remember my mom but not too much about my brothers and sisters, except for the fact that there were quite a few of us and not enough milk dispensers to go around.
I was young and curious and very attracted to the outside world and to books and newsprint. At the time, I primarily considered these comfortable, insulating objects, but later I would recognize that I was, from the very beginning, attracted to words. I roamed a bit as cats will, exploring my world.
Next thing I remember, I was in LaValle, Wisconsin, a tiny town west of Baraboo. I had teamed up with another guy a little older than me, Orange Cat. Orange Cat and I had found some people who did pretty good at bringing in food…we were young and foolish and didn’t really know what human commitment was.
Over time, several small cats, kittens really, joined us. By the time of the incident, there were eight of us.
Up to that point in my life, I really wasn’t thinking about the big picture. I was just going from day to day, doing the best I could. Having Orange Cat around was nice. The incident changed my life.
Again, all this is a bit foggy. One day, the eight of us were in the house. There was a little food but the people were gone. There was no way out. Orange Cat and I did the best we could to keep the spirits of our companions up, but we had a frightening few days. I don’t really know how many. I do remember promising myself that if I got out of this, I’d pay much more attention to the things around me and be more thoughtful.
We heard the sound of a vehicle. We saw several people, they seemed nice but nonetheless we were scared. They scooped up the kittens, it didn’t take them too long to get Orange Cat and me too, put us in carriers, and we went for a ride. They took us to the shelter.
The next few weeks are really a blur. Everyone was nice but they were also very firm. I took another trip, south this time. I stayed for a while there for a medical checkup and a surgery – no kittens for me! Then I was back at the Sauk County Humane Society. I had a penthouse cage: a cubicle like everyone else but on the top row where I could see everything going on.
My buds from the house were with me. We all had new names. Orange Cat was named Tucker and I was named Diesel…I think because I am dark and have flecks of white. One of the little guys from the house was just below me.
Every day people came to look at me and the folks taking care of all of us would talk to us, pet us, and let us out from time to time to explore our room. Food was regular. I got my picture taken for the first time. I figured the deal was to get one of the visitors to take me home, but how do you know who to pick?
Then I met the tall guy…
(to be continued...)
