Jaws

One day when I was 8 years old I went looking for snakes after school. There were a few of us kids roaming about the neighborhood in search of snakes, not sure why. Anyway we ended up in a part of town called Deer Park. I heard a tiny meow coming from a nearby ditch. I sought out the source of the little meow and found a very tiny little kitten. She appeared to be abandoned. She was so young that one eye was still closed.

I picked her up and before I could even think about how I was going to convince my parents that we had to keep her Chad (one of the kids on the snake hunt) tried to rip her from my hands.

He made some declaration about how he would keep her. Well, to say the least he did not succeed in stealing her from me. I must admit that I punched Chad, not too hard, but with enough force that I was able to claim victory.

I took her home and to my dismay my parents didn't immediately concede. They posted a few signs for a found kitten, which went unanswered. Even before the signs were up I was busy thinking of a name for her. My first few ideas were quite weak, names like Cinderella and Isabelle. My Mom soon suggested that we call her Spitfire or Jaws as we got to know the bitey little kitten a bit better. She ended up as Jaws, but her nicknames include (but are not limited to): Magic Cat and Cougar.

She had some abandonment issues at first. When left alone she would suck on the end of her own tail, a result of being away from her cat mom. We would come home to find a very happy kitten with a crusty tail tip. Years went by and she settled into life with my family. She spent her time exploring and avoiding our beagle, Chloe.

Now, so many years later, she is still alive and kicking. She is over 19 years old now. You can see in the photo that she is looking a little worse for the wear, but doesn't seem to be ready to pack it in yet. She still loves to lay in the summer sun, demand a good pet and of course she still earns her name with an occasional bite.