Whiskey River.

Our mischievous and adventurous little guy lives up to his pioneer name. He stays on the prowl and typically returns home with a limp or completely cold gift. Into anything and everything as he terrorizes our neighborhood. Whiskey is all boy and takes after his canine brother in the fact that he is the “alpha”. It is so funny to hear our neighbors talk about him visiting their yard or joining them for a stroll up the road. He lives with zero fear (even when mom breaks out the spray bottle or the fly swatter.)

Whiskey’s story began on a hot summer day when I was coming back into town from a visit to Shelby, N.C. It was our first summer in Bynum and I was hard at work trying to clean out our garden, along with all of the furry visitors who loved munching on my Lilies, Hibiscus trees, Tomatoes, Basil; you name it. We had furry visitors from all over coming for a free for all in our yard. Now, I have not had many cats in my lifetime. I have grown up with dogs my entire life and have a dad who was attacked by a feral cat as a young boy. Jimmy is a cat guy and I was beginning to wonder if a cat might be our yard’s saving grace. My grandmother has had cats all her life, because she farmed and worked in fields. She encouraged a cat, along with my mother and aunt so here I came back and ready to take Jimmy to pick us out a little feline.

This particular day was one where Jimmy surprisingly went along with everything I suggested. It was odd to see him so compliant as we went to Chatham Animal Shelter to find our baby. I was so impressed with the Chatham shelter, because their philosophy is to adopt out as many cats/kittens who are in the socialization room as possible before bringing more cats/kittens in. It was the summer so they had an abundance of precious felines who were seeking a furever home. I was distraught at first, because the Calico kitten that I had seen online was VERY young and VERY unsocial. She screeched and hissed as I tried to rub her head. I then moved to a friendly guy with a gray coat and white socks. I kept playing with a couple at a time wondering how we would choose, meanwhile Jimmy held onto a particular tabby who would not stop purring and cuddling against him. I was having such a hard time fathoming who we would take home that I told Jimmy to choose. It was the hardest decision and to only leave with one, but we chose our striped boy with a deep purr and sweet meow. It was one Willie Nelson song later that Jimmy said, “yeah; Whiskey River.” It was later that afternoon that I found out why Jimmy wanted to keep me so happy. This special day was also the one that he proposed to me on while kayaking down the Haw River.

NOW..please take note that this was going to be a dramatic change for our little family of four at the time. My girl, Cleo has been against cats since she was born. She has a track record of torturing cats. We were also unsure of how Winston would react. I was terrified, but determined that Whiskey River would enter our home loved. We kept the dogs away from him for about two days. On day two is when I decided to first introduce Winston to his new brother. He immediately LOVED him. I held Whiskey close as Winston licked all over him. I set Whiskey down and he immediately started purring and rubbing against Winston. A bond that still to this day is tight and unbreakable.

Now for Cleo, I waited almost a week. One night I was holding Whiskey close and motioning for Cleo, but she would not come. Jimmy told me to just set him down and see what would happen. I set him down and here she came. I quickly retrieved him. I kept my hands surrounding him as Cleo sniffed and sniffed him. Her and Winston both immediately started licking him to death. Jimmy and I are convinced that they were trying to make the cat smell disappear. Weeks later, Whiskey began his new habit of irritating and pestering Cleo; however, in present time I have caught Cleo letting Whiskey clean her.

Here we are two years later; we couldn’t ask for a friendlier, energetic, amusing male cat. He takes after his dad in the fact that his mouth does not stay shut. He will meow, meow, and MEOWWWWW. I am almost positive that his meows talk as much junk as his dad does. Oh, and has Whiskey lived up to his role of patrolling and keeping our garden clean? You bet. He LOVES chasing anything that tries to terrorize his Momma’s plants. He is another example of the blessings who are waiting everyday in shelters and rescues for furever homes to grow with, nurture, and love.