Mishon came to us as the fulfillment of a promise. I had promised my high school chum that I would take a kitten from his cat's litter, preferably a calico. A month or so had passed, and I had actually forgotten my promise, until the day my friend showed up with this tiny kitten in his hands. She had a somewhat gangly look to her, being a thin, short-hair kitty. Her ears seemed too big for her head, and her nose too pointy. She had orange and black patches on her shoulders and back, with white on chin and throat, tummy and legs. Looking at her, I was reminded of a fox.
Little Mishon had a knack for ignoring the other cats' hisses; she seemed unperturbed by their discomfort at her presence. It was as if she knew she belonged, and they would just have to deal with it! Her name Mishon was chosen from a baby name book, meaning "Gift of God", to reflect the gift she was, Foxra was a tribute to her coloring, Jellybean in remembrance of a kitty Doug's family had owned, and Tarzana because her character showed her to be an agile "trapeze artist", hanging on by a single claw as she scrambled to climb on a cat tree, or nearly spinning upside down on the bottom side of one of the levels!
Mishon became fast friends with our other calico kitten, Kalice. The two of them soon shared naps, bathing, and... ringworm! Oh boy! And, generous kitty that she was, Mishon shared her ringworm with me! Yet more adventures in kitty-parenthood! Thankfully, the vets came to the rescue once again, providing medications and advice, and soon we were all free of this fungus.
Kalice and Mishon romped through our house, amusing us, amazing and upsetting Tigra and Dietrich, and generally being active, healthy kittens. We had a slight scare with them in mid-summer; I was at a camp with my nieces, and Doug was left home with the "kids". Unbeknownst to him, one morning Mishon and Kalice followed him as he walked down the street to his parents' house to visit. He left for work, never noticing the little ones had been along. It wasn't until that evening that he noticed they were missing, but he mobilized the family "troops" immediately, calling on nephews and nieces to help post notices, and asking neighbors about anything they'd seen. Fortunately, our next-door neighbor had been talking to a neighbor across the street, who had found our two kittens munching from her cats' food bowls. Between the two of them, they popped Mishon and Kalice in our open bedroom window; Doug found them cozily napping when he returned home that night. Their whole adventure had lasted about two days. When Doug told me the story, of course he dragged it out until the suspense was nearly unbearable! We were both so relieved at the way it turned out, feeling the narrow escape we'd had from loss.
Mishon outgrew her gangliness, turning into a lovely, elegant cat with long, slender legs. She became quite adept at the "silent miaow", opening her mouth in a meow, with no sound coming out, or occasionally only a small squeak. It infallibly got her what she wanted, as we found her irresistably cute! I still remember how she stood up on her hind legs, asking for a bit of turkey from daddy Doug, applying the full force of her silent miaow.
Doug and I had decided to let Mishon and Kalice have a litter of kittens. Yes, we know; the world has too many kittens needing homes, and it doesn't "improve" the mama any to have a litter. But this was in our early days of kitty-parenthood, when we weren't quite as responsible about such issues. We know better now. Mishon was the kind of cat who lets you know in no uncertain terms that she is in HEAT! And needs a boyfriend NOW!! So we let her out, to find whatever romance she could. Kalice would sometimes go out, too; but didn't seem to be as anxious about it. In time, we realized Mishon had become pregnant, and we watched in wonder as her sides began to bulge, feeling the kittens move within her. She loved to cuddle on the bed with us, stretching out so we could stroke her tummy, a rumbling purr telling us how happy she was. We waited in eager anticipation for the births, wondering if she would have them while we were home, or be secretive about them, or what. I read alot of books, trying to anticipate any needs she might have.
She had her babies one Sunday afternoon while we were at a softball game. We walked in the door, and she came out to greet us; immediately I noticed she was skinny, and exclaimed, "You had them! Where are they?" With a proud trill she led us to the bedroom, where we found her babies under our bed. Grabbing a flashlight, I counted four of them. With Mishon looking on, I gently pulled the kittens out and put them on top of the bed. Two boys and two girls, and the girls were calicos! But soon we noticed one of the girls wasn't doing well; she was cool, and didn't seem to be moving as much as the others. I called the emergency veterinarian office for advice, hoping there was something we could do to help her. They suggested ways to try and help her breathing, since she may have had a blockage. Sadly, nothing helped, and little Whisper Rose died in my hands. Mishon had seemed to know I was trying to help her baby, and turned her attention to the others. I showed her the little body, and after giving it a thorough sniffing, she seemed satisfied to let me take her away.
I used to tell people that Mishon was the quintessential Mama cat, doing everything the books said Mama cats might do: she moved her kittens around, and trilled over them, and was generally happy to nurse them anytime they seemed to want to eat. She even nursed Kalice's kittens (yes, sneaky girl had gotten pregnant too!) and was never happier than when all the kittens were piled on top of her! The two mamas shared nursing duties, but I think Mishon really relished the job; Kalice had a more "laissez-faire" attitude about the kids.
We found homes for all of Mishon's kittens, and most of Kalice's. One day after giving away Mishon's last baby, she met a sudden and tragic death on the road behind our house. The lady driving the car was in tears, telling me she had darted out in front of her before she could do anything. I often wonder if Mishon was chasing a butterfly; in my imagination, I see the butterfly as an angel leading Mishon home, across the Rainbow Bridge, where she is still purring.
