This is my abortion kitty. He would have died on March 31, 2010 of asphyxiation alongside his two brothers within his mother’s discarded uterus at the bottom of a surgery room trash can.

I removed him and his brothers, revived them, bottle fed them, and chose to keep one–his name is Bagheera.

My last kitty’s name was Bagheera and he was all black too.

He died at the age of nine in a flower bed on my mother’s farm. So I suppose I wanted a new one.

I probably contributed to the overpopulation of cats that day. But my conscience would not let me let those kittens die. Contrary to the impression some of my earlier posts may have given, I don’t believe in culling healthy baby animals. If they must die, it should be for a good reason such as to feed hungry children.

When the kittens were 3 months old, a young woman adopted one. The other brother ran off/died/was stolen.

Bagheera is a smart cat. He also has all of his kitty instincts and then some. The only clue to his odd infancy is when he sometimes kneads my son’s fluffy blanket while suckling on a corner of it. And he pees like a girl (probably because he was neutered at 6 months of age).

He climbs trees. He hunts. He avoids cars. He knows how to manage dogs and abusive children. He once took a pellet to the shoulder for sitting on the roof of a neighbor’s car. It is still floating around subcutaneously and is now located on the left side of his rib cage.

Although I refuse to adopt mixed breed dogs, I will only adopt mongrel cats. I have no desire to spend gobs of money on an animal I have to keep locked in the house for fears that it will jump the fence and die/be injured/contract a disease/be stolen/etc.

Besides, I hate litter boxes. By 4 months of age Bagheera was going to the bathroom outside, so I tossed the litter box in the garbage.

He plays games with the dogs, tormenting and teasing them as he sits on top of the fence, twitching his tail. Although my brother’s useless pain-in-the-ass Pug will jump up and down barking endlessly, my Boxer bitch will lie crouched in the grass, pretending not to pay attention.

The cat also pretends to ignore the dogs. And when the Pug gives up to go hyperventilate on the deck, that is when Bagheera leaps off to race across the yard. And the Boxer gives chase.

If the cat senses that the dog will catch him, and she usually does, he stops and sits and stares at her. And she sniffs him, gives a goading bark, and then goes off to do her own thing…like digging pits in front of the shed.