by Barbara Church
Marki WAS the big man...or so he thought. When he was first brought to me, he was so small that he could sit in the palm of my hand. His previous owners (if that's what you want to call them) had attempted to crop his tail for reasons unknown. I instantly fell in love with this poor little creature, who by the way, grew up to be a handsome cat. He would occasionally sneak outside at night and to get him back in was a job. So, I would yell outside, "Marki Nubins, I am going to bed. Either you come in now or you can sleep outside all night!" He was in the house in 2 seconds flat! The minute he heard the floor squeak in front of my bedroom door, he would beat me to the bed. He would wait until I settled in the bed, and the night games began. Then finally he would curl up around my head and we would both drift off to sleep. Marki ran out the front door on August 3, 2004 and straight into the road. Unfortunately, there was a car coming and I don't think I really need to tell you what took place next. He was laid to rest in front of the house, so I can say good morning to him as I leave and good night as I come home. I still and always will love my "Big Man".