Peggie Sue. Peg O' My Heart. Sweet Delight. The Bird. The Spanish Prisoner. The Hungarian. The Pegstress. Peppy. The Citizen Journalist. Peg Peg. Biscuit. The Jeopardy Player. The Wholesome One. "In my mind I'm goin' to San Antonio". "All day, all night, sweet delight". "The Queen of Denmark". Birdie. Bird is the Word. Scenes of Sympathy. Peppy Bizmilk. The Juvenile. The Senator. Gobbles.
Born Blixa, and Blixa remains his given name, I've smothered Peggie Sue with nicknames. And with adjectives. This cat is wholesome, sweet, pure, fresh, clean, innocent, unspoiled. I love all of my cats and I suffise them with all kinds of identities. They are characters from well-known literature.
Peggie Sue, or Blixa, was born with his "freres" on 5 December, 1997 so he will be 16 in about 6 months. He was born in a snowstorm/blizzard and a student discovered a mewling mass of blood and plaintive cries. He came to us and we ran over and packed the mass in a cardboard box and rushed them over to Cats Only Vets. The Vet disentangled the mother, her four sons, a slew of afterbirth, and the umbilical chords which had wrapped themselves tightly around the legs of two of the cats. Blixa was the most seriously afflicted and had to undergo surgery at age one day or a bit less to have one leg amputated up right at the thigh.
But everyone survived. When Blixa was a kitten he learned how to romp and run and leap up to high surfaces. He was as fast as e'er a cat could be. He gave freely of his affections and they were returned. But over the years, his spine got distorted with a kind of scoliosis.
But now Peggie Sue has slowed down. He can no longer leap up on the table or the bed. I pick him up and put him on my lap. He has lost a lot of momentum and rarely walks now but instead drags his foot on the floor--he sits and pulls himself along.
Yet he has not lost his appetite and his purity of love and affection for us and his brothers remains. Cats are loyal and pleasant. He intertwines his neck with a brother and they groom the back of each other's neck.
I live with five rescued cats and I know that most of my affections are caught up in their little bodies and spirits. They all have a narrative that is, in my mind, equal to the most compelling Dickensian saga.