Hoover was one of my first cat’s kittens. Hoover was named after our Hoover vacuum cleaner. As a child, I did not get very original when I called my cats alone. Hoover was very gentle, and he would let a young child pick him up and hold him without even giving me one scratch. I would carry Hoover around with his legs drooping down, but he would purr away contentedly.
Hoover would wait for me to come out of the house every morning to hold and fuss over him. He would stay while I waited for the school bus to take me to school in the morning. Hoover got a lot of table scraps to eat, dry cat food, and freshwater to drink daily.
Hoover had his Mother, Flossie, and siblings to keep him company. I had his siblings, Blacknose Sprite, and an adopted cat Fresca. Sprite and Fresca were named after the soda pop that I drank.
Hoover was a red tabby tuxedo cat. He would play with leaves and his Mother’s tail as a tiny kitten. Once in a while, he and his sisters would play chase and wrestle around together. He was a good hunter like his Mother and would bring dead gophers and mice up to the house so we could get a good look at his catch of the day. His sisters were very successful huntresses.
Hoover and the other cats would follow my Father around the farm, and luckily, they all knew enough to stay away from the farm machinery. They loved to sleep in the hay mow of the old barn we used to have. They were friendly and cozy in the hay and got the other animals’ warmth in the barn. They drank milk along with their regular cat food in the winter months. They always had heated water to drink in the winter from a heated water tank for the farm animals.
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