
Porter's cat, Tiggers, died in January. He followed the kids to Grandma's one morning to borrow something and later, when he decided to come back home, he was hit by a car while crossing the road. Thankfully, the kids had already returned home earlier. It was a hard experience as he was our first pet.
The missionaries (okay, not just the missionaries but our very favorite Elder Shupe) brought Tiggers home to Porter six years ago when Tiggers was just a kitten. And, let me tell you, that cat was full of personality! Such a great friend to my kids, who are afraid of anything that can bark. He would sit in the kitchen window or at the front door and watch whatever they were doing inside, just waiting for them to come out and play. Whenever the kids would go outside he would follow them all around the yard (and to Grandma's too). He never left our yard without the kids but, for some reason, all the neighborhood cats liked to come over and pick fights with him.
Porter built him a house for a scout project and put him inside it with food and water every night to protect him from the other cats and keep him out of trouble. Then he would let Tiggers back out in the morning. The kids liked to sneak Tiggers into the house when it was cold outside. He would just curl up in the schoolroom until Daddy got home. When Kevin would come home and see the cat, it would have to go out.
What adventures our family had with Tiggers! He got sprayed right in the face after trying to make friends with a black and white kitty. I tried to wash him off with the garden hose while Pa held onto him. Of course, he got away in a hurry and we didn't see him for a day or two. When he came back home he was very dirty but he didn't smell anymore. After getting covered in june grass stickers, we had to take him to the vet to be shaved. He was so embarrassed when he came home looking like a naked lion that he hid behind boxes and toy bins all day long. He didn't want anyone to see him.
We rescued him from tom cats, bandaged up his battle wounds, shaved him with Kevin's hair clippers, and loved him lots. We miss him. Mostly I miss how he would hang his paws over the bottom of the railing on the balcony and stick his head out the balastrade. It was so cute! Having him leave was hard, especially for Porter. We buried him in the backyard. That night Porter gave me a hug and said, "Maybe we should stick with goldfish, they're not quite as sad."
(And for those who think it is silly that I am writing a eulogy about a cat, that is why he was our first pet. I get too attached. But even Kevin admits, "For a cat, he was a pretty good one.")