Over the years we've had some miraculous and even odd behaving cats.
One that comes to mind is Tiger.
He was a cat that we discovered when he was probably only about eight weeks of age.
We were out hunting upland game birds, my dad, my fourteen year old son, and I were probably a good two miles from any farm houses.
We were in a heavily brushed area of canary grass and tansy ragwort.
The tansy is classified as a noxious weed, but it doesn't get too out-of-control in this area, and it provides excellent habitat for Chinese pheasant and Hungarian partridge.
Anyway, a hun flew up and my son raised his gun to lead the bird, but didn't fire.
I asked why he didn't shoot and he replied, "I heard a meow.
" He reached down and picked up this skinny, little orange tabby.
Its ribs and backbone were showing through the skin.
I said it must be lost or someone had too many cats and dumped it off.
We walked back to the Cherokee and my son was done hunting for the day.
He was all about nursing that cat back to health.
It was his cat and he was going to raise it.
As we headed down the road, the hungry cat jumped out of my son's arms and landed in the back of the Jeep.
Soon we heard a crunching sound.
The kitten had climbed into a box of wheat thins and was eating heartily.
At this time I coached basketball for the Republic High School Tigers.
So since the cat was orange with tiger stripes, he was named Tiger.
Within the year the cat had all his shots, he was fixed, and he'd grown into a large, fat, and wandering pet.
It may have been a partial or even unsuccessful neutering, or perhaps we had neutered him too late in life, but Tiger acted like a tomcat.
We couldn't keep Tiger in the house because he marked his territory.
We fixed him a bed in the open shed out behind the house.
Tiger protected his territory.
He marked the outer perimeter of our yard and defended it from tomcats.
Sometimes at night we were awoken by strange, almost vicious cat sounds.
The next morning we'd find some cat hair out in the yard, usually some orange cat hair, but primarily some other color.
Also, Tiger began to roam as he widened his territory; it became common for him to be absent for three to five days at a time, and eventually a week or two.
It may have been coincidental, but over the years there were numerous orange tabbies in our small community.
Tiger lived to be 19 years old, but I'll never forget the day my son found him.
And I'll especially never forget Tiger's last days as our youngest granddaughter carried that memorable cat around in her arms.