For those of you who remember the TV show, The Lone Ranger, you’ll remember that the Lone Ranger’s horse’s name was Silver. He was a pretty spectacular horse, at least in my childhood view. Well, when my mom married my stepdad (and he was a great dad), he had a Siamese cat named Silver.
Silver had never been around kids before and he was very shy at first. He would hide under the baker’s cabinet in the kitchen. I love animals and I couldn’t leave him alone. I found a ball and rolled it to him, several times a day, day after day. After about a week of talking to him and trying to coax him out, he finally came out and let me pet him. Soon after that he became my cat.
Silver was my confidante. When my mom would get on my case I would take Silver up to my room, pet him, and tell him all my troubles. He would purr and snuggle in my lap, always making me feel better.
I didn’t fit in with other kids very well. Most of the kids in my immediate neighborhood were a few years younger than I, and I was shy and awkward to boot. I had a few friends at school but they could play games that I wasn’t good at so I didn’t visit them very often. Silver was my best friend. (And if anyone is trying to hack this you find him in any of my passwords, so don’t waste your time.)
Before Silver I had never seen a Siamese cat. He was seal point with dark tips on his ears, paws, and tail, and he had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen on an animal. Maybe he’s the reason my favorite color is blue.
When he got old and feeble, unable to see where he was going and barely able to walk, my dad reluctantly, and with great remorse, had him put to sleep. There was a lady who lived up the road from us that bred Siamese cats: Seal points, chocolate points, and lilac points. When Silver died I was allowed to go to her house and pick out a new kitten. We named him King, and he lived up to his name. His story will be told another day.