I was born one of the many women who could not have children.  I became a member of an animal rescue group in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Georgia</st1:place></st1:country-region>.  My husband did not really like it because growing up his step father had had his brother kill his cat when she was found to be pregnant. Being an alcoholic he, ‘didn’t want to spend the money on a damn cat!�?SPAN>  Because of this my husband never really got close to any animals we had.  At times it became a real problem, but that’s another story. 

                     About two years ago we had three cats a dog and two foster kittens waiting for a home.  I went out on the back porch one morning and heard the most awful caterwauling I’d ever heard.  Following the sound I found a little grey kitten behind the freezer.  It looked like it was caught so I ran in the house to get my husband.  Coming out to see he discovered that the kitten had room to move and was not suck, he was just scared. He said, “Just leave it alone, it will come out and hopefully leave.�?SPAN>   Well the little guy as it turned out did come out, but he didn’t leave.  He would come out from time to time from under the porch to mooch on food and would run for cover at the opening of the door.

                        When I was able to get the little guy to come to me I took him in the house.  Well you can imagine my husband’s reaction.  It was the standard, “We have enough cats!�?SPAN>  “What are you going to do with him?�?SPAN>  Well, I got in contact with the powers that be in the rescue unit telling them I had an eight month old kitten and got him into the organization and enrolled for adoption.       

                Not long after that some strange things started to happen.  My husband loved all of the cats but he sort of kept his distance and because of this could not understand why some of the cats would run away when he tried to pick them up.  The only one until this little guy came along who would let him get near was Red, a big red and white tortoise shell mix, about 15 lbs of muscle and teeth.  Big Red loved to play but he also loved to roam and was not always home when my husband got there.  On one night my husband came in the door and all put stepped on Hobo which is what we had decided to name the little gray cat.  Little Hobo would not move and when my husband tried to step over him Hobo promptly wrapped his front paws around his ankle and bit down!  Yelping my husband reached down, and picking up the little grey kitten he waved his finger in the kittens faces.  Hobo batted at his finger with a paw. At this my husband decided to hold the kitten close and there was an almost immediate purr that was so loud I could hear it across the room. 

                        After this the two were very close. He wouldn’t run when my husband got him and never tried to get away. Little Hobo looked like a Russian Blue but upon close observation you could see three little dark rings on the end of his tail and around his face was a little lighter than the rest of him.  He would sleep with my husband rolling over on the bed and begging for a tummy scratch. I decided to adopt him shortly after this, because the two of them got along so well. My husband would ask where the three ringed wonder was on his way home.  When he got older he and Big Red sort of stuck up a relationship.  They would walk out of the yard together and almost always come home together.  There were a number of times in which Hobo would bring home a present. One time a live present.  The other cats are still trying to find the mouse he left behind. On one night shortly before Hobo’s second year Red came home alone. Three nights after that my husband said he had had a dream about Hobo so I started looking for him.  There is one thing I have learned about cat and animals in general.  They know when their time is up and they go willingly, but on rare occasions they will return in a dream to the one or ones they loved. This happened to me once and when my husband told me about the dream I went looking. Animals being what they are often go places they shouldn’t and when you live beside a busy highway bad things can happen. A week after my husbands�?dream  I found his little body at the side of the road. When I informed my husband, it was a little funny, we were both very sad but neither one of us cried over him. We did feel a deep void and loss. I told him that when Hobo came back to him in his dream he was saying, I love you so very much, but it is time for me to go, I just wanted to stop by and let you know I won’t be coming back. 

                          Few of us have had this happen, but when it does we are the richer for it and are left with a feeling of being a part of something so much bigger than ourselves.     After Hobos death my husband became more involved with the animals, wanting to feed them and making sure they lacked for nothing.  A pat here, a scratch there, a full bowl at dinner time, and finally getting to hold Oliver a very skittish gray tabby who would always run away when he came through the door.

                         Little Hobo, I owe you so much for helping me to open up the 12�?thick iron fence my husband had around his heart.   Thank you Little Hobo, I know that somewhere up there is a collective of angels passing around a little gray cat and scratching the tummy bare with a purring that can be heard over the hymns.