"Spike II"
3" by 4"
Oil on Gessobord













Well, it's been a very unhappy 48 hours here without Spike.

My Husband and I put up fliers, notified vets and shelters and pissed off most of our neighbors with our almost constant calling.

I just couldn't settle down to paint.

Finally I said 'what the hell' and decided to paint Spike. The whole time I was praying that my cat would come home.

Call it sympathetic magic. Call it wishful thinking. Call it divine intervention.

My Husband came home from making a midnight order at his shop and told me he thought he'd heard Spike outside. We walked the block calling for her. Nothing.

When we got back to the house (both of us near tears) she galloped up to meet us.

"Spike"
3" by 4"
Oil on Masonite












Sorry folks, it's come down to puppies and kittens.

This here's Spike, my tabby-point Siamese cross. One of her other names is 'devil cat'. She likes to bite, she doesn't like to be petted, but hates to be alone. She likes to sneak up to you and cuddle against you, but the moment you notice-- she's gone.

Spike's not right, never has been, never will be. We think her momma was starved when she was pregnant with Spike's litter. Spike was the only 'white' kitten in the litter, the rest were black as was her momma.

To be truthful, she started out kinda cream colored.

My friend Susan said, "you know she's going to get darker as she ages." And she was right.

Spike has gradually darkened to where she is almost black along her spine and stripes.

I think when she finally turns completely black, she will become one with the darkness.

Which might finally make her happy.