This is a children’s story. But, I don’t have a book deal and no illustrator {grin}. I wrote this story many, many years ago when we lived in our old farmhouse that burned to the ground in the 2007 San Diego wildfires (see my earlier posts starting with Any Way the Wind Blows). One of our beautiful cats, Dorothy, succumbed to old age in 2006, and with losing our house in 2007, we have very few photos of Dorothy. So, my pictures with silly overlays will have to do! {grin}
Although we have our beautiful Snowshoe Siamese cat, Coco, this story is dedicated to sweet Dorothy – who was the inspiration for this story and my niece, Samantha, who loved her so.
Here’s the story:
Dorothy is a beautiful calico cat with long, silky-soft fur. Her golden eyes sparkle whenever she winks and swishes her fluffy tail.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Dorothy lives in a big farmhouse in the countryside surrounded by flowering meadows, fields bursting with abundant crops and mountains that touch the clouds. She welcomes each morning with a blink, yawn and a stretch as she awakens with the bright morning sun.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Each morning, Dorothy enjoys a yummy breakfast of the finest, tastiest morsels in the bright, sunny kitchen on a beautiful flowered rug.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
After thoroughly washing her face with her soft, tiny paws, Dorothy wanders outside to greet her many friends. Jack, the big black dog with the fluffy tail and floppy ears, greets her with a wet, sloppy lick across her newly cleaned face.
Ruckus and Racket, the noisy black crows, swoop down from their perches in the trees high above to wish her good morning. “Caw, caw, caw,” they cry as they fly overhead.
Riley, the handsome rooster with the shiny blue tail feathers, struts around in circles scratching the dirt, pecking at bugs and bobbing his majestic head as he greets her good morning. “Cluck, cluck, cluck,” he serenades.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Wandering into the lovely flower garden, Dorothy sniffs each flower as she searches for new delights to enjoy and explore.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Locating a favorite spot in the fragrant herb garden, Dorothy curls up under a large basil bush and settles in to savor an early morning nap as the mist burns away in the warm morning sun.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Refreshed from her nap, Dorothy wanders out to the cornfield, chasing the bunnies up and down the rows of neatly planted corn.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Roaming into the big red barn, Dorothy hunts for mice crouching low and swishing her tail as the mice scurry and dart around looking for hiding places in the bales of hay.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Unsuccessful in her pursuit of the mice, Dorothy meanders outside to her favorite tree. Scampering up to her favorite look-out branch high in her favorite tree, Dorothy sits quietly swishing her tail as the squirrels scurry about trilling warnings to each other. “Chirp, chirp, chirp,” they sing a chorus sounding an alarm.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Suddenly, the sky darkens as clouds form overhead. The wind whistles through the branches as gusts of dirt and leaves swirl in the air.
Dorothy’s fur stands on end as a strong gust of wind nearly knocks her out of her perch. Carefully, she navigates the branches and trunk of the tree as she reaches safety on the ground.
“Dorothy, a storm is brewing,” yells Samantha, her best friend, from the kitchen door. “Come into the house!” As Dorothy sprints across the yard, lightning flashes followed by a deafening clap of thunder roaring through the valley The sky opens up pouring rain and soaking Dorothy to the bone!
With thoroughly wet fur plastered to her tiny body, Dorothy slinks into the kitchen. Samantha leans down and scoops Dorothy into her arms. “Oh, you poor thing,” coos Samantha as she cuddles Dorothy. “Let’s get a towel to dry you off.”
Settling in a chair by a blazing fire, Samantha gently wraps Dorothy in a warm, fluffy towel massaging the wetness from Dorothy’s fur in slow, even strokes.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Content, Dorothy drifts off to sleep for a quick nap in Samantha’s and Tiffany’s lap. After awhile, Tiffany goes home to study for school, leaving Samantha and Dorothy together as they dream of butterflies and ice cream while they slumber in the large, cozy sofa by the burning fireplace.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Awakened by the fireplace logs tumbling as they burn, Dorothy decides to walk about the house as the rainstorm continues outside, exploring her favorite places…the dining room chair at the head of the table, the back of the sofa in the living room, the top of the pillows on the bed upstairs, the hidden corner behind the plants in the library. With a sudden burst of energy, Dorothy bounds up the stairs rushing through an open door into one of the bedrooms and catapults into the middle of a large, cushy bed with mounds of pillows.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
Samantha, witnessing Dorothy’s flight up the stairs, follows behind calling, “you can’t hide from me! I’ll find you, you scamp!” Noticing a lump under the pillows on the bed, Samantha reaches in and touches a ball of warm, soft fur.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
“Come on, you scamp. The rainstorm is over. Let’s go outside before dinner,” says Samantha as she gathers up the purr ball in her arms. Together they walk down the stairs and out the door. As the sun’s rays burst through the dark clouds, a rainbow appears in the field beyond. “Look, Dorothy!” exclaims Samantha excitedly. “Can you see the rainbow’s end?” They head out together across the field.
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
“What a wonderful day,” sighs Samantha as she hugs and kisses Dorothy, still curled in her arms. “A rainbow is a promise of more wonderful days to come!”
For this, Dorothy is purrful.
purr ful ‘pur ‘fül adjective,
grateful, thankful, appreciative of benefits received resulting in a purr (low vibratory murmur typical of an apparently contented or pleased cat).
Tootles,
P.S. A little bit about Dorothy: she was a feral kitten that we rescued from a family ranch. As with all of our cats, she chose us, running up to us and jumping on Charlie’s feet. She was covered with fleas and had severe conjunctivitis. I wanted her immediately, took her home, cleaned her up and took her to the vets for treatment.
She was our 2nd cat at that time, joining Tinman in our household. Tinman (about 2 years old at the time), hated her and would hiss at her and swipe at her. Charlie wanted me to take her back to the ranch and turn her loose because Charlie was stressed out because Tinman was stressed out! But, I remained firm and Dorothy kept trying to engage Tinman and after about 2 weeks of this ritual, she won him over. They remained good, loving friends for the rest of their long lives.
For many, many months following her rescue, she would eat anything. Even though we provided her with a constant bowl of food, she would want our food. One time, she jumped into the middle of an open pizza box and chowed down – ripping the pizza slices with her paws and claws like she would never have another meal! This routine lasted about 6 months until she realized that she never had to hunt for her food again. From then on, she became a cat food snob and no longer wanted people food – only cat food (I was very relieved!).
She was a sweet, loving, purrful cat and in her elder years, became blind from detached retinas caused by high blood pressure (yes, cats can get high blood pressure!). For the rest of her life, Dorothy had to have high blood pressure medicine given to her daily and Charlie devotedly crushed her pills every day and put them in just a bite of canned cat food to make sure she got all the dosage.
We loved her dearly.
Related Posts:
(other posts about cats)
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