Midnight was the little black kitten that nobody wanted in the litter. So we brought him home, too, along with Ouija, his brother, from the Moss' house. He was so patient when we brought home his nephew, Hershey ,who bugged him all of the time! Midnight was so patient when our grandson, Noah was born. Midnight was the King of the Neighborhood, Master of the Universe. He was one bad-ass black cat! He used to go in the woods and bring home assorted chipmunks, moles, and shrews. One day he killed a snake! Any cat can kill a chipmunk, but a REAL cat kills a snake! One day he brought a bird into the house. It got loose, and was flying all over the place. I finally cornered it in the kitchen with a sheet, so I could bring it outside. Midnight was so mad at me, watching me as I did it, and had a mad look on his face like " That wasn't easy to do--catch a bird, you know--and THAT'S the thanks I get?" It was so funny. He was my black Halloween cat, and always seemed to lay right next to the pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns on the porch, like he was posing for a picture. He used up a few of his 9 lives, like when he got the infection from jumping on the kitchen counter, and was " Frankenstein" from the drainage tubes put in his neck .He also almost died form being poisoned by Hartz flea medicine; I couldn't have gotten through my parents' deaths without him. Hershey always sleeps with me, but Midnight would just find a chair to sleep in. But after Dad's death, Midnight got on my pillow and slept with me while I cried myself to sleep.He would look at me like he was saying "Just go ahead and cry..My fur is wet, but I don't care..just go ahead" I still love the smell of his wet fur, coming inside after being caught in the rain. He loved going in the woods to explore, all day. I would call him to come in at night. He would come, but would look at me like 'What do you want? I'm staying outside!" Then off he'd go again. He loved his front yard, too, but had good street smarts, and would never cross the street. If I was talking to a neighbor, he would stay at the edge of his yard, waiting for me to come back, but looking at me like "come home, Mom". He loved to get his catnip on his birthday and at Christmas. Many Christmas mornings were made more fun by watching Midnight get high on catnip, play with the wrapping paper, run around crazy, then crash and burn in the middle of the presents, zonked out. Midnight started feeling old and tired. I told him to try to get to age 20, so he wouldn't be a teenager at The Rainbow Bridge! He made it to his 20th birthday, then 1 day shy of 4 weeks later, he died, in the cool grass, with the sun on his fur.He is now with Ouija, his brother, Smoky, his sister, and Monkey, his mother. Maybe Mom and Dad are letting him sit in their laps, although they were " dog people". Midnight, Momma loves you. You were a good cat, and one bad- ass black cat!

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Midnight Wingo's People Parent(s), Patrice, would appreciate knowing you have visited their Midnight Wingo's Memorial Residency.

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