Hello Dear Readers. Is it Lazy Friday Rerun Blog Day already? OK! Who am I to argue with the calendar! (except I do think a week should have 8 days and 3 of them should be a three-day weekend – but apparently my calendar wouldn’t give me the time of day.) Here’s today’s rerun:
Taffy May I Hardly Knew Ye
When I was a little girl, the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow was a horse.
I had no preference as to style, make or model. If it had four legs and knew how to gallop, I’d take it! We lived in a small town smack dab in the middle of an ocean of wheat, so there were lots of girls who had horses and rode them everywhere. It would rip my heart out to see a gaggle of girls atop their sterling steeds clip clopping all over town.
- “Clip clop clip clop clip clop clip . . . etc.”
I really only voiced the question of my getting a horse to my parents a couple of times, knowing full well that the answer would be no, and, as a matter of pride, I’d ultimately have to run away from home or –at the very least — stage a runaway as in the following true scenario:
“Look at this Janey,” my father remarked to my mother, “I found Linda’s yellow shorty pajamas in this little 45-record case in the bushes just outside her window when I was mowing the lawn.”
Oh I was going to run away alright . . . eventually.
Ok, fine . . . if I wasn’t going to get a horse, at least I could try for a kitten. This is how I went about it:
Step 1: Convince my parents that I was head over heals in love with cats. To accomplish this, I colored umpteen pictures of kittens and scotch taped them to my circa 1959 pink wall.
Step 2: Wasn’t even needed because Step 1 worked like a charm. Next thing I knew I was picking out my very own gray, long-haired kitten from a batch of five.
In my excitement, I failed to notice that this particular kitten had issues. It suffered from the world’s lowest kitty IQ. Maybe that’s why the name I chose, Taffy May, seemed to fit her so well.
Taffy May was the perfect cat for a little girl to bond with. Being nearly brain-dead, she allowed me to pick her up and carry her around without protest.
She slept with me all night under the covers which I thought was because she loved me so — but more likely she just couldn’t figure a way out.
Taffy May had one batch of kittens – if three can be considered a batch. But being the little dummy that she was, she managed to lie on all three of them during the night and in the morning the only one left breathing was my beloved, Taffy May.
Perhaps it was Karma (I know there was a car involved) the day Taffy May shuffled off this mortal world.
I was on my way home from school without a care in the world. When I rounded the corner, there stood our across-the-street neighbor, Mr. Huey, holding a lifeless Taffy May up by the tail.
I don’t know how many times Taffy May had been run over, but judging from the fact that she was literally as flat as a pancake, it would be safe to assume more than once.
I screamed and ran into the house where I was inconsolable well into the night. I never got another cat of my very own, out of respect for Taffy May, who will always have a place in my heart . . . about two feet wide and one and one-half inches deep.
Until next time . . . I love you
Linda Vernon Humor 
Not to make light of your loss or anything, but I have to ask – are you sure Taffy May didn’t run under the car several times to get that flat?
It sounds like just the type of game she would have enjoyed, bless her fuzzy little heart.
And the town we lived in was population of 1010. Our street was two houses long. My mom and Mr. Huey were the only people who ever drove on it and my mom swore Mr. Huey didn’t run over Taffy May and do you realize I just now put two and two together . . . that would mean . . . my own Mother killed Taffy May NOOOOOO!
Have a great weekend Larry!
I think I must have had some of Taffy May’s ancestors/bloodline. What could be sadder than a cat that can’t find it’s way out of the covers? Poor Taffy May : (
I know . . . she was like having my very own alive stuffed animal. She was so compliant. Which is why I loved her so! 🙂
It’s a little known factoid outside Berkeley that the Frisbee was in fact named after a cat, of that name; the cat lived at the Alpha Beta house, near the I-80 interchange, and was found in the exact same condition; the frat fellas, being the sensitive animal lovers they were, made up a game in his honor, and the Wham-O Corporation was born….. next time, hold out for the equine…..
Is that right? I had no idea! You really do learn something new everday! HA!
And I did hold out of the equine and finally got my first horse at 50. Still have him! A retired racehorse who I affectionately refer to as Sedintariat. 🙂
Love the horse’s name… I watched the famous race that Secretariat won, the third leg of the Triple Crown, where he ran away from the field, crossing the finish more than 26 lengths ahead of the second place horse… it was, easily, the most thrilling athletic performance I’ve ever seen,by any animal or human…. an amazing experience, and I saw it on a TV in the bar of the restaurant I was working in, in Florida….which dates me again… that was in 1972, or 73 (early Alzheimer’s is clouding the memory today…)… any who, Sedintariat is a truly wonderful name for a retired racehorse…. 🙂 Take care…
Really! What a great memory! WOW!
Yeah…it was, totally. I cruised on that feeling for days…. and get it now, on the re-telling, so, cool… 🙂 Give the old guy a carrot for me…. hell, give the horse one, too….
Haha! Will do Ned! 🙂
Love the horse’s name… I watched the famous race that Secretariat won, the third leg of the Triple Crown, where he ran away from the field, crossing the finish more than 26 lengths ahead of the second place horse… it was, easily, the most thrilling athletic performance I’ve ever seen,by any animal or human…. an amazing experience, and I saw it on a TV in the bar of the restaurant I was working in, in Florida….which dates me again… that was in 1972, or 73 (early Alzheimer’s is clouding the memory today…)… any who, Sedintariat is a truly wonderful name for a retired racehorse…. 🙂 Take care…
Hi,
It must of been terrible for you to see your cat being held up by your neighbour, but it does sound like poor Taffy May missed out on her 9 lives somewhere down the track.
It was pretty horrible. He was laughing as I remember and I’m sure it was funny. But not to a 9 year old! And yes, I think poor little Taffy May got the short end of the stick in a lot of departments. Although she probably avoided gettin hit by a car 8 times probably in a very Magooian way too! 🙂
How sad… but still funny.
I’m sure as a child you were mortified by the kittens all being suffocated. Right now all I can think is what a blessing that was.
I can also attest to the fact that if you really persist long enough, parents will give in on the horse thing. Of course, mine thought it was just a phase.
Oh on the calendar thing, I’m good with a 7 day week. However we should have four day weekends. Every week. That way, we couldn’t over-work ourselves.
You’re right I should have kept up my nagging! Oh well, at least I have a horse now, better late than never!
Four day weekends! That’s way way better! Good call.
[…] Yes, I know I’m a bad person for even thinking this. But, my blog-friend Linda relayed a story today about her childhood cat having a litter of kittens that she promptly smothered. The momma […]
I had to cover George;s eyes…..is it possible this is the root of your pet issues? or possibly, pancake trauma? 😕
Ha ha! Well, apparently according to Gigoid, that’s how the frisbee was invented by some college students in Berkley. They were throwing around a flattened cat and then someone got the idea to invent the frisbee. I suppose stranger things have happened – though I can’t think what.
As the old candymaker used to say: Taffy May stick to the road. Best to drop it on waxed paper.
P.S. That’s the same place I used to keep my shorty pajamas. : )
Hahaha! You are so funny!!:D I’m picturing your shorty pajamas in the 45 record case . . . LOL! I’m kinda wishing now I would have simply folded Taffy May up and wrapped her in wax paper and put her in the record case. She’d probably be mumified by now. I might have even been able to charge money to let people visit her . . . or take a tiny bite . . . or just visit . . . either one.
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