When we moved to the country, we inherited a menagerie of barn cats. They came and went, some got hit by cars - Cruger Road at the time was a short cut to Peoria - and some just disappeared. But one remained for several years, Princess, a white female, who was more prolific than I was. Every summer, old Mr. Yellow Tom, would come "cattin'" around, and weeks later a new litter. I suggested we have her neutered, but Vern didn't believe in it, so more and more kittens. I can't remember what happened to Princess, she probably died from being worn out.
Another cat appeared in the yard one day. It looked like a pure bred Siamese, beautiful blue eyes and the kids fell in love until it bit one of them and then did it's favorite cat trick, jumping on the back and digging in. When Vern came home from work, the cat went for a ride. As the car came off the McClugage Bridge, and takes the exit for Adams Street, Vern opened the door and let the cat out. A few days later, there was a small article in the newspaper, that the police had to be called because a Siamese looking cat was biting and jumping on kids on the Nortside of Peoria.
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