Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Here is Angel Herman wearing the St. Patrick's Day hat.  This was his first St. Patrick's Day and you can easily tell what he thinks about it.  This is the first time I have felt like posting here since Herman ran off to the Bridge, but I thought you all might like seeing him in his green hat again.  It's the first thing that came to mind when I was considering my St. Patrick's Day post for Herman's Hideaway.  You can see the boycats wearing the same hat over there.  I am way out of practice, but here's a little ditty for the occasion.

                                               My kitties hide when St. Pat makes the scene.
                                               They know that I have a hat made of green.
                                                                 They'd rather not be seen
                                                                  A'wearin' the green.
                                                 They think making them wear it is just mean.

Farewell, Herman

This is the last picture I took of Herman by himself.  The very last picture was of him and Oja cuddling in the easy chair in the living room.  Herman ran off to the Rainbow Bridge early this morning.  He hadn't been sick.    He showed no signs of sickness at all until yesterday afternoon, when I found him in Emma's hidey hole about an hour after the vet closed for the weekend.  There was nothing I could have done anyway.  If you want to read the whole story, you can find in on Herman's Hideaway.  I buried him in the garden, in a sunny spot near the forsythia bush.  It is only five days until his third Gotcha Day.  I am really going to miss my darling boy.  See you at the Rainbow Bridge, dear Herman.

                                          Farewell, Herman, my darling boy.
                                          Having you in my life was such a joy.
                                                      We'd play and cuddle
                                                      And sleep in a huddle.
                                           See you at the Bridge, my handsome boy.

Herman

I have been researching a kitty who won't talk to me yet, so I decided to write a limerick for the kitty I know best.  Herman was born on June 3, 2007 and went to his first home.  His first family kept him inside and took pretty good care of him, but they never got him vaccinated or neutered.  Then they moved away and gave Herman to their neighbors.  The neighbors never got him vaccinated or neutered, either.  They decided that they were allergic to him and instead of taking him to the shelter, they just tossed him out in the back yard, though they did continue to feed him and give him water.  Evidently, Herman got into lots of fights with intruder cats and by the time the neighbors finally did take him to the shelter in May 2009, he had  both FeLV and FIV.  A very nice foster lady took him in and got him neutered and got him a lion cut for the awful mats he had developed while he was living outside.  I found out about him in November and adopted him on November 16th.  We knew that we were right for each other the first time we met.  Herman is full of fun and love and is eager to share it all with me.  He likes to watch the birds from his platform and play with his toys, especially any kind of ball.  He is quite a soccer player.  He thinks that water is strictly for drinking and doesn't want anything else to do with it.  He loves to eat and has put on some weight since he moved in with me.  He sleeps with me every night and curls up right next to me for some pre-sleep scritches.  I fall asleep listening to him purr.  He doesn't wake me up in the morning, but if he sees my eyes open, he wants his breakfast.  He has started tickling the end of my nose with his toehawks to let me know that he knows that I am awake.

                               Herman's as frisky as can be,
                               Though he  has FeLV and FIV.
                                           He tickles my nose
                                           With the floof 'tween his toes,
                               Which means, "I want my breakfast, MommIEE!"