Katuse
A donation was made in memory of Katuse on Apr 05, 2010.
Katouse
On a sunny summer day in 1995 my family and I were walking around Green Lake in Seattle when we came across a litter of kittens. We ended up adopting a tiny white one with blue eyes. On the drive home we named her Katuse. I carried her home wrapped in my shirt and when we got to the house we set her free in the basement, she leapt out of my shirt and ran into a dark corner behind the washing machine where she stayed for the next 3 weeks.
Katouse slowly warmed up to us and became a very sweet, albeit exceedingly skittish, cat. Due to her crossed eyes, her skittish nature, and her irrational behavior we all determined that she most likely had a) been separated too early from her mother, or b) (most likely) suffered from some degree of mental deficiency. During the day she always stayed hidden in the basement, coming out only once we were tucked in bed for the night. But once she came out she was the sweetest cat. We always called her “the white cat” or “the little cat” even though in the last few years she had become a grey/brown butterball.
Katouse died on Thursday at the respectable age of 15. Despite the fact that she ruined the basement carpet and once peed in my dad’s face, my parents were great to her for all of her 15 years. She lived nearly her whole life hidden in a basement which is now 10,000 miles away from me, but I am still missing her very much. We will all miss her.
Bill B.
On a sunny summer day in 1995 my family and I were walking around Green Lake in Seattle when we came across a litter of kittens. We ended up adopting a tiny white one with blue eyes. On the drive home we named her Katuse. I carried her home wrapped in my shirt and when we got to the house we set her free in the basement, she leapt out of my shirt and ran into a dark corner behind the washing machine where she stayed for the next 3 weeks.
Katouse slowly warmed up to us and became a very sweet, albeit exceedingly skittish, cat. Due to her crossed eyes, her skittish nature, and her irrational behavior we all determined that she most likely had a) been separated too early from her mother, or b) (most likely) suffered from some degree of mental deficiency. During the day she always stayed hidden in the basement, coming out only once we were tucked in bed for the night. But once she came out she was the sweetest cat. We always called her “the white cat” or “the little cat” even though in the last few years she had become a grey/brown butterball.
Katouse died on Thursday at the respectable age of 15. Despite the fact that she ruined the basement carpet and once peed in my dad’s face, my parents were great to her for all of her 15 years. She lived nearly her whole life hidden in a basement which is now 10,000 miles away from me, but I am still missing her very much. We will all miss her.
Bill B.
