B.C. (for "Black Cat")

by Terri Sue Taylor
(Weaverville, CA)


B. C., which stood for "Black Cat", was a tiny pure black wild "Rumpy Manx" (tail-less) kitten living in our East Texas neighborhood in October of 2008, while we were there attending Ministry School.

To our neighbors, he was known as "the untouchable cat", because he could not be caught by anyone. My husband patiently sat outside every day, talking softly to the tiny 8 week old starving kitten. To everyone's amazement, he eventually crept up to my husband and quickly became his trusted little friend. B.C. "adopted" us from that time on.

He grew to only be the size of a 7 month old kitten, being short and compact with no tail at all. In the 1 short year he lived, little B.C. learned to walk on a leash, survived Hurricane Ike with us, traveled across 5 states to California with us from Texas in June of 2009, when we graduated, surviving a Tornado along the way, visiting the Grand Canyon with our friends and us, and camping under the stars with us for 2 more months.

Sadly, in October of 2009, he developed an incurable bladder ailment, and he had to be put to sleep peacefully to relieve his days of suffering. We cried when he left us, but we know that he lived a life full of adventures that even many people never may see!

Comments for B.C. (for "Black Cat")

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Apr 10, 2011
I'm very sorry for your loss
by: Kurt (Admin)

I'm so sorry to hear about B.C., Terri Sue. Such a short little life, but so full of adventure! Thank you for rescuing him from the streets!

Apr 09, 2011
God's little Angel, B.C.
by: David

Reading that you or your husband were studying in a Ministry, I can let what little hair I have down and say what you already know: God sent you an Angel in the form of a little black kitten, maybe as a test. You'll correct me if I misquote, but somewhere in the Bible it talks about answering a knock on the door, and we should answer it because it might be the Lord come a calling. Give me shelter, give me food, give me drink for you may not know who I am.

It sounds as if you passed this test and more. As a champion of homeless cats, I thank you and applaud you both - "Four Paws Up!" to you! We have been tested ourselves many times in similar ways. Before we were married, in the dead of winter with snow on the ground late at night while my wife Mary worked in the ER, a heard a scratching at the door of our second floor apartment. A tiny white kitten looked up at me when I went to investigate. I wasn't ready to let her in, but I brought her tuna, water, milk and a nice warm blanket. Then I called Mary to discuss this little vagabond.

I am disbabled with severe lower back damage. So I asked Mary if she really wanted a kitten; she would have to do things for it I couldn't, like cleaning up "accidents" and tend the litterbox - anything that required bending over. She said she would, and was ready. Still wary of fleas and ticks, it was decided we would bring this little Angel into our home and lives.

Only thing is, while the food, milk and water were gone and the blanket had been cuddled in, the kitten was gone. She had done her job and planted the seed that would guide us over the next twenty years. When we were married in April, my mother-in-law told us the feral mama cat she left scraps for had had another litter.

Over outside dinners I saw Mama, all battlescarred and cautious. I sliced off some of my steak and pitched it in her direction. The more she ate, the closer I pitched them. Soon, she trusted me enough to show off her litter. Eventually we acquired Miss Jean-Luc Kitte`, a feral calico kitten of hers and the rest is history. Except she would become my cat. Despite my disability, I fed her, bathed her, blow-dried her and took care of most of her needs. She would rule our homes with an iron paw, but she also protected everyone in the household for thirteen years before she passed on our bed with Mary and I at her side. I still cry over her even though I know she has never left us and is waiting for us at the Bridge. God Bless you! David

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