| Dogs - Cats - and other wonderful animals |
| Buddy's Story |
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| Copyright 2008 © Barry M. Baker, Canines-and-Felines.com |
| Canines and Felines |
Buddy----------the terror of our household.
Buddy----------the cat who thinks he is a dog.
Buddy----------the snuggle cat, who purrs his little heart out while at the same time he
digs his claws into your leg to let you know who is the boss in this relationship.
This relationship began at the end of 2003 when my husband, Barry (who at the time was a Lieutenant with
the Baltimore City Police Department) stepped outside to catch a breath of fresh air. At the front door of
his stationhouse he caught a glimpse of a tiny kitten emerging from underneath a parked car. The kitten
made a beeline for Barry and proceeded to rub his head against my husband's leg. The sound it made
wasn't your normal cat’s meow, but it sounded more like it was saying "ME."
My husband told me later that it was as if the kitten was saying, "Pet me, pet me”.
He petted the kitten for a while and then left it to his own devices as he returned to his office. Now it must
be said that Barry was not a cat person; even though, we have two cats which had shown up on our back
porch one rainy night and wormed their way into my heart and our home.
No, he was definitely much fonder of our three dogs. Barry had never owned a cat.
That evening when Barry’s shift ended, he walked to his car and to his surprise the kitten came out from
underneath a parked car again and proceeded to follow him. He had given the kitten not much thought
during the day, and he assumed that it had wandered on. Making the same sound again, “ME, ME,” it
called out to him. Barry looked around to see where this little thing could have come from, but there where
no homes anywhere close. The station was located in between two busy roads and some local
businesses. It must have crossed those bustling streets to look for a kind human who would maybe feed it,
he thought.
Now what? He couldn’t leave the kitten here. Who knows what could happen? It could get run over;
someone could call animal control where they certainly would put it to sleep. There were so many things
that could happen to a little thing like this.
Barry is an animal lover just like I am and knowing that I would have had something to say had he told me
about the kitten and not made sure that it was going to be ok, he decided to call me. “How would you like
another cat”, he asked? I was a little surprised by his question. Now, if it had been a dog I would have
understood his willingness to bring the animal home, but a cat? I didn’t hesitate too long with my answer,
afraid that he would change his mind.
“Why not, what’s one more," I replied?
My husband told me later that he wasn’t sure how to transport the kitten. He was worried that if he just put
it in the car, the cat would be fearful and would climb all over the place. So, he got an empty box from the
station house and sat it inside. But that wasn’t at all to the kitten’s liking. “Me, Me”, it complained and
looked at Barry with wide eyes as it sat perfectly still. Maybe it would sit next to him on the seat he
wondered, and he lifted it out of the box. Yes, the cat snuggled next to his leg and began to purr softly.
The ride home was quiet, and Barry found himself petting the cat. His soft fur felt so right under his touch,
and he smiled to himself. "What a little Buddy," he thought.
At home I anxiously awaited their arrival. I love cats and dogs alike. The more the merrier is my opinion,
especially if it is an animal that was saved from the mean streets. I always worried about the many strays I
see in the city. If it was up to me we would have a whole zoo. Just as I was thinking this, Barry walked
through the door carrying the kitten in one hand. I rushed over to take it from him. It was so skinny you
could feel every bone in his body. The poor thing was dirty and his nose was running as if it had a cold.
(We found out later that he had an upper respiratory infection which was successfully treated).
What surprised me was that it would let us handle it so easily. It wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, it
seemed. Our dogs thankfully had gotten used to our other cats and this new one seemed of no great
interest to them. They sniffed it thoroughly, and the kitten didn’t seem at all fazed by this. I wondered if it
was used to dogs?
Barry wanted to call it Buddy and I agreed. It would be his Buddy, I decided silently, since the other two
cats had adopted me as their mother and didn’t pay much attention to my husband. I wondered though if
Buddy would bond with him since I was the one who fed the animals and spent more time with them than he
did. Well, I need not have worried. From that day on Buddy came running as soon as Barry came home,
greeting him just like the dogs did.
Speaking of dogs, the reason I said that Buddy thinks he is a dog is because he behaves like one. He sits
patiently among the dogs and begs for a treat just like they do. He loves to sleep curled up next to one of
them, sometimes touching them with his little paw.
On the other hand, he also likes to playfully terrorize them by slowly reaching out his paw as if to caress a
furry leg and suddenly he digs his claws in. It always startles our Chesapeake Bay retrievers and they give
out a low growl, but Buddy isn’t faced by this at all. Nothing seems to scare him. He just gives them a
haughty look with his tail high up in the air and walks away. I swear I can detect a totally satisfied
expression on his face, as if to say, "I showed them." He also has a different expression for different
occasions. Unlike our other cats who maintain a haughty and somewhat blank expression, his face tells
you exactly what he is thinking. When he is curious about something, his eyes are wide open, and he
gives you this alert look. When he is grouchy, his eyes narrow to slits, and his face crunches up a little.
When he is sleeping and you pet him, he opens one eye and yawns as if to say, “Not now, maybe later."
Buddy also has a mischievous side to him. He will sit absolutely still one minute and the next he is off like a
shot careening around corners as he runs through the house, and you can be sure that any minute you
can expect to hear a crash or a thump or some sort of noise that tells you he found something to knock off
a shelf or a cabinet. The object then becomes his toy which he bats around the floor.
Barry, having retired since he brought Buddy home, built a small building separate from our house where
he has a small office. Buddy goes to work with him and likes to rearrange the furniture as Barry calls it.
He plays with the pens on his desk, watches them fall to the floor and proceeds to bat them around until
they vanish under chair or cabinet. When that gets too boring, he sits in front of Barry’s computer and
watches the screen following the cursor with great interest. Then after some more exercise, as he jumps
from desk to bookshelf, knocking things off if they’re in the way, (he is not the most graceful of cats) he
takes a long nap in Barry’s lap or a chair.
Well, this is buddy’s life, eat drink and make merry, always surprising us, always delighting us with his
antics. He is one of a kind, that’s for sure, and I love him. Barry on the other hand, who wasn’t a cat
person, simply adores him and everything that Buddy does delights him. Every day is a new adventure
with him, and even when Buddy sleeps we marvel at him, because his little tummy has grown chubby, and
his coat is shiny and smooth, and he looks like the healthy and happy cat he was meant to be.
Buddy----------the cat who thinks he is a dog.
Buddy----------the snuggle cat, who purrs his little heart out while at the same time he
digs his claws into your leg to let you know who is the boss in this relationship.
This relationship began at the end of 2003 when my husband, Barry (who at the time was a Lieutenant with
the Baltimore City Police Department) stepped outside to catch a breath of fresh air. At the front door of
his stationhouse he caught a glimpse of a tiny kitten emerging from underneath a parked car. The kitten
made a beeline for Barry and proceeded to rub his head against my husband's leg. The sound it made
wasn't your normal cat’s meow, but it sounded more like it was saying "ME."
My husband told me later that it was as if the kitten was saying, "Pet me, pet me”.
He petted the kitten for a while and then left it to his own devices as he returned to his office. Now it must
be said that Barry was not a cat person; even though, we have two cats which had shown up on our back
porch one rainy night and wormed their way into my heart and our home.
No, he was definitely much fonder of our three dogs. Barry had never owned a cat.
That evening when Barry’s shift ended, he walked to his car and to his surprise the kitten came out from
underneath a parked car again and proceeded to follow him. He had given the kitten not much thought
during the day, and he assumed that it had wandered on. Making the same sound again, “ME, ME,” it
called out to him. Barry looked around to see where this little thing could have come from, but there where
no homes anywhere close. The station was located in between two busy roads and some local
businesses. It must have crossed those bustling streets to look for a kind human who would maybe feed it,
he thought.
Now what? He couldn’t leave the kitten here. Who knows what could happen? It could get run over;
someone could call animal control where they certainly would put it to sleep. There were so many things
that could happen to a little thing like this.
Barry is an animal lover just like I am and knowing that I would have had something to say had he told me
about the kitten and not made sure that it was going to be ok, he decided to call me. “How would you like
another cat”, he asked? I was a little surprised by his question. Now, if it had been a dog I would have
understood his willingness to bring the animal home, but a cat? I didn’t hesitate too long with my answer,
afraid that he would change his mind.
“Why not, what’s one more," I replied?
My husband told me later that he wasn’t sure how to transport the kitten. He was worried that if he just put
it in the car, the cat would be fearful and would climb all over the place. So, he got an empty box from the
station house and sat it inside. But that wasn’t at all to the kitten’s liking. “Me, Me”, it complained and
looked at Barry with wide eyes as it sat perfectly still. Maybe it would sit next to him on the seat he
wondered, and he lifted it out of the box. Yes, the cat snuggled next to his leg and began to purr softly.
The ride home was quiet, and Barry found himself petting the cat. His soft fur felt so right under his touch,
and he smiled to himself. "What a little Buddy," he thought.
At home I anxiously awaited their arrival. I love cats and dogs alike. The more the merrier is my opinion,
especially if it is an animal that was saved from the mean streets. I always worried about the many strays I
see in the city. If it was up to me we would have a whole zoo. Just as I was thinking this, Barry walked
through the door carrying the kitten in one hand. I rushed over to take it from him. It was so skinny you
could feel every bone in his body. The poor thing was dirty and his nose was running as if it had a cold.
(We found out later that he had an upper respiratory infection which was successfully treated).
What surprised me was that it would let us handle it so easily. It wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, it
seemed. Our dogs thankfully had gotten used to our other cats and this new one seemed of no great
interest to them. They sniffed it thoroughly, and the kitten didn’t seem at all fazed by this. I wondered if it
was used to dogs?
Barry wanted to call it Buddy and I agreed. It would be his Buddy, I decided silently, since the other two
cats had adopted me as their mother and didn’t pay much attention to my husband. I wondered though if
Buddy would bond with him since I was the one who fed the animals and spent more time with them than he
did. Well, I need not have worried. From that day on Buddy came running as soon as Barry came home,
greeting him just like the dogs did.
Speaking of dogs, the reason I said that Buddy thinks he is a dog is because he behaves like one. He sits
patiently among the dogs and begs for a treat just like they do. He loves to sleep curled up next to one of
them, sometimes touching them with his little paw.
On the other hand, he also likes to playfully terrorize them by slowly reaching out his paw as if to caress a
furry leg and suddenly he digs his claws in. It always startles our Chesapeake Bay retrievers and they give
out a low growl, but Buddy isn’t faced by this at all. Nothing seems to scare him. He just gives them a
haughty look with his tail high up in the air and walks away. I swear I can detect a totally satisfied
expression on his face, as if to say, "I showed them." He also has a different expression for different
occasions. Unlike our other cats who maintain a haughty and somewhat blank expression, his face tells
you exactly what he is thinking. When he is curious about something, his eyes are wide open, and he
gives you this alert look. When he is grouchy, his eyes narrow to slits, and his face crunches up a little.
When he is sleeping and you pet him, he opens one eye and yawns as if to say, “Not now, maybe later."
Buddy also has a mischievous side to him. He will sit absolutely still one minute and the next he is off like a
shot careening around corners as he runs through the house, and you can be sure that any minute you
can expect to hear a crash or a thump or some sort of noise that tells you he found something to knock off
a shelf or a cabinet. The object then becomes his toy which he bats around the floor.
Barry, having retired since he brought Buddy home, built a small building separate from our house where
he has a small office. Buddy goes to work with him and likes to rearrange the furniture as Barry calls it.
He plays with the pens on his desk, watches them fall to the floor and proceeds to bat them around until
they vanish under chair or cabinet. When that gets too boring, he sits in front of Barry’s computer and
watches the screen following the cursor with great interest. Then after some more exercise, as he jumps
from desk to bookshelf, knocking things off if they’re in the way, (he is not the most graceful of cats) he
takes a long nap in Barry’s lap or a chair.
Well, this is buddy’s life, eat drink and make merry, always surprising us, always delighting us with his
antics. He is one of a kind, that’s for sure, and I love him. Barry on the other hand, who wasn’t a cat
person, simply adores him and everything that Buddy does delights him. Every day is a new adventure
with him, and even when Buddy sleeps we marvel at him, because his little tummy has grown chubby, and
his coat is shiny and smooth, and he looks like the healthy and happy cat he was meant to be.
| Buddy's Story by Sherry Baker |