I raised my Alfonso Tattoo from the time he was about three weeks old.  He was yelling his head off in my backyard and finally I gave in.  I found him tucked away under and old kitchen sink from a house demolish that I had scavenged just before the bulldozers came to tear it down.  It was from the 1930s or even 20s and had a built-in draining board running along the side.  When I used to garden, I had a hose hooked up to the faucet and the runoff hose went to our vegetable garden but in my new/old home I never used it and only stored potting soil in it and cacti on it.  Anyway he was in the bottom left-hand cabinet that was also built-in to the whole enameled piece on the top shelf of that cabinet and couldn’t yet walk on his back legs.  His mother never came back to claim him so after hours of his screaming, I finally took him in the house and started feeding him.

He is my only surviving kitten that I completely hand raised and he is a pip.  Very unsocial except with me.  I called him ALF at first for, Alien Life Form because he had eyes as big as flying saucers and very little body to go with his head.  As he grew and his body started to fit his marking it was apparent that he had three distinct black ovals on his right foreleg and I lengthen his name to Alfonso Tattoo, I call him Tatt now and he is one of the few cats that react to his name…not just my voice but his catual name.  I yell “Tatt – Tatt Come Here Cat” and he will come running from across the street where he hangs out to get away from all the others.  He doesn’t respond to “Here Kitty Kitty” or anything else, just that phrase.

He is very sick now and has trouble eating so he is loosing his stocky muscular build and I expect him not to last for more than a few months more.  Although he isn’t more than 12 years old, so he might just be slowing down.  As most cats, he sleeps a lot.

What ever I’ll miss him but he has been a source of joy and one of the feral cats that I managed to raise without a mother.