THE HOLIDAYS ARE ABOUT FAMILY

CATS ARE OUR FAMILY

We both grew up as dog people.

Were taught that cats were trouble.

Our parents shooed away even the friendliest strays.

That foolishness nearly denied the joy of cats.

Little Havana has a lot of good things going for it, but one of the down sides is that it has to be one of Miami’s most-favored place by cruel people dumping unwanted pets.

We had talked to and put out milk for a few strays now and then.

But it really wasn’t until 2012 that we became cat parents.

Heidi was in the hospital recovering from a hip revision of a full hip replacement.

A neighborhood stray that we had seen a few times must have decided we needed her as much as she needed us.

The adult cat posed for some pictures.

I could hardly believe it.

She was a Siamese Cat.

Too beautiful to be an outside cat (not that any cat should be on the street vs. inside a loving home.)

When Heidi came home for the rehabilitation center, the cat came right to her.

We ended up coaxing the cat inside.

She soon got a name — HoneyBear.

HoneyBear had a Tortie daughter that hung out with her.

We let HoneyBear out at night, so she could visit with her daughter.

Eventually, HoneyBear became and inside cat, but her daughter (CoCo Kitty) was too feral to come in.

Now, for nearly a decade, we have gotten dozens of cats into Miami-Dade County’s Trap/Neuter/Release program that helps cut down on the population of feral cats.

We also started building house for the cats that are too feral to want to be picked up.

We supply them with food and water.

There’s Moe the Tuxie. Ginger the ginger cat.

The Swede comes from a neighbor’s house to gorge on our free food. Sockie lived at a nearby abandoned house, but we haven’t seen him in a month. Hopefully, a loving family adopted him.

Mr. Baby is our latest love. He’s another ginger cat. He does not meow. He cries like a human baby. Thus his name.

He has all the best characteristics of previous ginger cats — that we got into the TNR program, but we no longer see. Baby must have gotten cuddling and human-trusting genetics from Dusty, Big Boy and Squirt — our ginger gang from a few years ago.

He let me pick him up on the first try. He also gave me a small scar on the upper lip when he got spooked that first time, but I don’t care.

Baby let me put him in a safe, soft side carrier and take him to HoneyBear’s vet.

Sadly, we found out he has feline leukemia.

He’s very healthy, a still growing not quite one-year-old boy, but we need to monitor things.

Baby spends a good chunk of the day with us inside while we continue to work from home.

He has just enough wild in him that he cries to go out at night.

Baby is so smart, he’s learned to jump onto a kitchen garbage pail and flip the lever handle on the back door. Were it not locked, he could let himself out.

We worry about Baby’s illness. We worry about all our cats — as Honeybear has to be more than a decade old.

But we prefer to focus on the positives. We have given dozens of cats a good, loving, healthy life.

That is our idea of Holiday Joy.