This is a story of one of my cats, her name was Misty. She had the most beautiful coloring of grey, cream, and white.
Her personality never ceased to amaze me. She had a very playful streak in her, but her gentle nature is what was so very amazing to witness.
I remember when we brought her home as an 8-week old kitten. At the time, my husband had just lost his best (cat) friend Jake. He saw a picture of Misty online and wanted to get her to fill the hole in his heart that Jake’s passing had left. Sadly for him, that was not to be. Misty ended up bonding with the other cat we owned named Peanut and me. I have tried to explain to my husband that pets are unique, just like humans. They have their own personalities, and trying to replace a pet whose personality clicked with your own just doesn’t work out. He has finally figured that out when after 2 tries of adopting cats, he found his ‘Jake’ with a kitten we bought, whom my husband named Baxter.
As I mentioned above, we had another cat, Peanut. I introduced her in my story of Jake titled “One Special Cat.” I hope to write about her someday. Peanut had never had a litter of her own. We have never brought a kitten home that we have not responsibly had spayed or neutered. We are not a cat farm, nor do we ever want to be.
Peanut would grudgingly accept new kittens in, and should the kitten be smart enough, it would learn all about being a cat from Peanut. Misty was one of the smart ones. Not only did she learn from Peanut, but she often used whatever Peanut taught her against her. Every night when I was settled in bed, Peanut would jump on top of me and insist on laying right on top of me. I was her ‘human,’ and no other animal was allowed this spot. We also had a small dog that always slept with my husband and me at the time. If the dog snuggled too close to me, Peanut would nudge her away. Misty was now a four-legged family member and was given the same treatment at bedtime. I began to understand just how intelligent this kitten was. Well, it was either intelligence or stubbornness. Since Misty was a tiny kitten, she couldn’t jump on the bed. It did not stop her from getting on the bed. She just couldn’t get there with one leap. After everyone (human and pets) were settled down, and the lights were out, you could hear Misty climbing her way up the side of the bed. She made no secret that she was on the bed the first couple of nights. But just like our dog, as soon as Misty approached me, Peanut would swipe at her to stay away. I believe it was on the 3rd or 4th night after Misty came to live with us that I heard the usual scratching noises as Misty climbed her way onto the bed. I waited for the slight movement of Peanut, pushing her away. It never came. Thinking that Misty found a different place on the bed that was acceptable to Peanut, I started to drift off to sleep. Before I was fully asleep, I felt this light movement above my head on my pillow. Misty was sneaking around to come down between my husband and me, only she didn’t try this above the covers. She snuck right down under the covers and snuggled in the crook of my arm. Peanut never reacted. I can only believe that she didn’t have a clue Misty was even there.
Peanut loved to hide in a bag or box left on the floor. She would wait for Misty to come and look for her. Just as Misty would be sniffing her way around to the front of Peanut’s hiding place, Peanut would explode out of it and scare Misty! If you have never witnessed a 3-month-old kitten all puffed out with their tiny little tail sticking straight up and hissing like a grown-up cat would, I hope someday you get the opportunity. It is the cutest thing. Peanut would then run, but only so Misty would chase her. As I had said earlier, Peanut taught the younger cats how to be cats.
The day finally came that the roles were reversed. Usually, when kittens are learning how to stalk or sneak up, the excitement is too great, and somehow they give themselves away. Not Misty. She had paid attention and was learning exceptionally well. One night as I was typing out a story on my computer, I heard a very soft rustling sound behind me. I swiveled my chair to see Misty sneaking into a bag that was right behind my chair. Had it been even just 2 more feet away from me, I would never have heard her. So, I waited to see what she was up to. Sure enough, Peanut came into the room, clearly looking for her. She sniffed her way to the bag, which Misty was in. Peanut would sniff and then gently poke the bag with her nose. I could see into the opening just enough to see that Misty did not budge an inch. As Peanut came around the side of the bag, I could see the whiskers on Misty’s face begin to twitch. Even though I knew what was coming, I jumped when Misty exploded from the bag! I don’t think I have ever laughed as hard as I did that night.
As Misty matured, so did the relationship between her and Peanut. Now they were buddies. Never equal, though. Misty always showed Peanut respect as the adult cat, also known in the cat world as the alpha cat.
I did not realize just how strong the bond between them was until after Peanut passed away. Earlier that year, I had a nerve problem with the lower left part of my jaw. Peanut would come up on my lap for her nightly snuggles and spend 10 minutes or so, just licking that one area of my jaw. Her rough tongue was actually bringing that nerve back! The night Peanut passed away; I was sitting in my recliner when Misty came and jumped into my lap. I knew she was grieving for Peanut as much as I was. But what happened next totally amazed me. She came up to my face and, for about 10 minutes, licked my lower jaw just like Peanut would have! She had never done that before, and she never did it again after that night. She was comforting me more than anything else. She wanted to make sure I knew that she was comforting me because I was grieving Peanut!
That night was my confirmation of just how much of a gentle and nurturing cat she was.
The area I live in is considered living on our town’s outskirts. Our road is a rural country road. Lots of open space of wooded area and fields. There is also plenty of wildlife. We have an abundant amount of birds, rabbits, and squirrels in our yard all the time. My husband likes feeding the birds and deer. Along with these animals, there are also plenty of mice. Peanut had been an excellent mouser. On occasion, Peanut had also caught baby rabbits, to my husband’s horror.
When Misty was old enough to handle the outdoors, Peanut showed her how to track and hunt down mice and other small critters. Including the occasional unsuspecting bird that chose to eat the seeds on the ground.
I found it odd that I never saw any evidence of Misty hunting anything until about a year after Peanut passed away. I came home one afternoon to find a dead mouse on the step in front of our side door. There didn’t seem to be any wounds on it. As I took it to put in the wooded area behind the house, I spotted Misty in the backyard sleeping in the garden. I disposed of the mouse and didn’t give it another thought.
The next day was Saturday, and I was home all day. It was a beautifully warm and sunny day. I did some house cleaning and decided to wash the enormous dog bed we kept in the kitchen for our small dog Amy and the cats. I threw it down the cellar stairs and left it there until I finished cleaning the kitchen.
I had got into the habit of leaving our bulkhead door to the cellar open during the day. This gave Misty a second way into the house without installing a pet door. It was about an hour before I went to wash the dog bed. As I walked down the stairs, I could see about 5 or 6 black spots on the bed. I am not sure what I thought they were as they had not been there when I threw it down the stairs. I was certainly not expecting what those spots turned out to be. They were newborn mice! Their eyes were still closed. And they were alive!! I looked all over for the mother mouse and could not find her.
I picked up the cushion and went to the stairs leading out of the bulkhead, and went up into the backyard. I placed the dog bed on the ground and went back through the bulkhead. I didn’t know what to do with the mice, but I figured it might draw out the mother if she was in the cellar. I proceeded to start a load of laundry when I heard Misty coming down the bulkhead stairs. The washing machine is just inside the entrance to the stairway, so I waited to greet her. I could not believe my eyes when she came through the doorway with one of the baby mice in her mouth. She carried it very gently and placed it on the floor at my feet.
I picked the mouse up, promptly brought it back up the stairs, and placed it on the cushion. I turned and saw Misty was right behind me. It was clear that she would bring it back into the house. So I picked up the whole cushion, brought the mice out to the wooded area, and hid them in tall grass. Then I brought the dog bed back into the cellar with me. I went halfway back up the bulkhead stairs to see what Misty planned to do. She had gone and found the mice and unbelievably had one in her mouth heading for the bulkhead and stopped halfway across the yard, changing direction when she saw me. I looked to where her new path would lead her and saw the garage’s side door was open. I raced over closed it before she could get in there. I then went and closed the bulkhead door. Once again, she laid the mouse at my feet. I picked it up and brought it to where the other ones were and then brought Misty inside with me. She found a quiet place in the house, curled up, and went to sleep.
About 6 hours later, my husband came home from fishing all day. I went out to see how he had done. I didn’t think anything of it that Misty followed me out. That was not until my husband and I headed back into the house. Totally out of character, Misty raced up the stairs, timing her arrival at the door as my husband opened it. She ran in and was halfway through the kitchen when it dawned on me that I better take a closer look at her. Son of a gun if that cat didn’t have one of those darn baby mice in her mouth! Thankfully she dropped it as soon as she was under the kitchen table. I picked it up for the third time that day and brought it back out to where the rest of them were. This time I left Misty inside.
The next day the mice were gone. I don’t remember if it was that day or sometime after when it struck me what Misty was trying to do. These must have been the litter from the dead mouse I had found on Friday. I wondered if Misty had found the baby mice after killing the mouse and was trying to take care of them. All I do know is that she never killed another mouse or anything else after that day.