Pet Tales  ~ Buster Bear

This is Buster Bear...our "first born". He came into this world on April 6, 1985, to a family who lived next door to us. His first "daddy" named him Buster, cause he was such a feisty little thing when he was a kitten. The litter was kept on an enclosed back porch, but when they opened the door, Buster used to run into the house, zip around the corner of the breakfast bar, and jump up into the fork of a potted plant in the corner. He was kinda wild back in those days. ;-)

During that time, Buster's *real* daddy used to come by and let momma and the kittens out, by pushing up on the glass slats in the jalousie window in the back door. That was one determined tabby! ;-) After awhile, the family gave up on trying to corral the kitties, so we were able to have a lot of exposure to them when they were out romping in the yard.

One of the litter died at birth. One was given away, and we learned later that one had also gone to kitty heaven. The remaining three were Buster and his two sisters, that we affectionately called "the girls". The girls met their demise under the hood of my old Mustang one day. It was very sad. :-( Who woulda thunk that kittens would be curled up in the engine compartment on a hot August day, at high noon, in south Georgia? Fortunately...I was not the one who started the car that day. I never would have survived the trauma. The saddest part was that every time momma cat passed by the car, for days, even weeks later, she would always pause and look up under the front, as if looking for her babies. It was enough to make even the most stouthearted weep. :-((

When the family moved away from the Island, they found they could not take Buster with them. By this time, Buster and Momma were not getting along very well. The family was moving to a place where outdoor pets were not allowed, so having the two of them confined together in the house would *not* be good thing. They wanted us to take Buster, but I wasn't really into having a cat. I did want a dog, but really didn't have time to properly take care of one. After much prodding on their part, I finally relented, and we agreed to keep Buster. At the time, he was about six months old. Little did we know what we were getting into. ;-)

Well...we had Buster, by himself, for a couple of years. We weren't home very much back in those days, either out working or partying. (See...I knew we didn't need a pet then.) But cats are pretty low maintenance, so he wasn't exactly neglected. He had plenty of food and water, a little milk every now and then, and lots of love when we *were* home. In fact, probably a little more than he really wanted. ;-) I mean, living in a one room apartment (that we affectionately called "the cave") with a teeny-tiny bathroom is barely big enough for two people, and when you add a pet to that, it gets a little more cramped. But even tho' the sink was small, it was adequate for catnaps.

In spite of all this...Buster was bored. It wasn't like he didn't have any friends at all. Tara, from down the street, used to come and play with him. I think for awhile...Buster actually thought he was a dog. ;-) He really liked Tara...and she liked him. They got to be real good buddies. Unfortunately, Tara's family moved away...and she had to move with them. We probably could have been persuaded to keep her, if they couldn't take her. (Remember...I wanted a dog.) In fact, I was really hoping they wouldn't be able to take Tara with them, but take her they did. We were all very sad when she left. I was saddened even more a couple of years ago, when I ran into Tara's daddy, who was back on the Island visiting. It was then I learned she had passed away a couple of years before. Even though she wasn't really part of our family, we will always miss her.

So...Buster was alone again. Nobody to love him, but two humans. We tried, but we just couldn't fill the bill. It was really starting to look like we needed to get another pet...so Buster would have somebody to keep him company while we were working all day. Even when we were home he was restless. All he would do is pace...go look out the window...pace some more. He got bored playing with his toys. He really needed some feline companionship. Now where would we find a nice kitten for him to play with? ;-)

On July 20, 1987, there was a litter of kittens born to Cleo, "the wharf cat" at the Jekyll Historic Marina. When they were about four weeks old, we went down to get acquainted with them...see which one we might like to take home to be a playmate for Buster. My other half had his heart set on one of the black ones. I liked the two black and white ones, cause they seemed to be cuddlers. We couldn't really decide, but thankfully, we didn't have to right then. They weren't old enough to leave momma yet anyway.

Next thing we knew...tragedy struck. Buster's former "daddy" had dropped by the house to say hello. He was on the Island, making a FedEx delivery. He and my other half were outside chatting, and I decided to take Buster out to see him. By this time, Buster was strictly an inside cat, but I had him leash trained. Well...not really, but that was the only way I'd take him outside. When he saw his former pop, he freaked. He didn't remember him...and bolted. In the process, he knocked down an aluminum ladder, which fell over the leash, between me and Buster. With all his gyrations to get free, the leash caused the ladder to keep scraping the driveway, which spooked him even more. Thinking I could get him back easily, I dropped the leash. I knew he'd run to the woods behind the house and probably stop right inside. I'd walk back there, see the leash sticking out, give it a tug, and out he would come. Great plan...too bad it didn't happen like that. Buster was gone.