Love Week Day 5: My Outside Boys

I love Celestial George, Hobo, Sammy, and Paddy O'Malley, and am thankful for their presence in our lives.

George, 2008
Discovered in my office parking lot; I spent time before work, at lunch, and after work with George.
On the weekends, nearby friends fed him, and these are dear friends we still have today.
We finally figured out how to trap him; he was neutered and placed with a loving family.
George was named for the building security guard who'd brought his existence to our attention.

Hobo, 2009-2015
Hobo appeared in our yard not long after George was adopted.
Hobo never allowed us within a few feet, even when he once was covered in burrs.
Hobo escorted Sweetie to our food bowls, when she was heavily pregnant, but neither of her kittens looked like him.
Hobo would walk up and down the alley, and we later learned that he had other homes who fed him.
Sammy's appearance didn't bother Hobo, but when Paddy O'Malley arrived, Hobo stayed away from our yard to live at one or two of his other homes, with whom I kept in touch.
He just disappeared in the end; still makes me very sad.

Sammy, 2010-2014
Sammy always looked a bit disheveled.
He once wouldn't put weight on one of his front legs, and we trapped him to get him to the vet; an abscess, caused by a bite.
Later, Sammy's mouth seemed bad, and he was losing teeth.
Once again, to the vet for a dental, but the vet said he was too sick and infected for the procedure, so he was the first kitty I'd helped over The Rainbow Bridge.
Sammy was named 'New Guy', but when The Hubby went to pick him up from the low-cost spay/neuter clinic, he forgot 'Guy', and dredged up the name of his grandfather instead.

💗Paddy O'Malley, 2011-2021💗
Once Paddy discovered food, water, and shelter in our yard, he never left.
At first a bit shy, he became a love-bug, and was the only cat (so far) to NOT run away after being released from the carrier after being neutered.
The PO'M often had injuries; huge tufts of fur missing, or he'd scratch himself raw.
We trapped him several times, to get him to the vet, and the vet staff never quite believed that he was a community cat as he was the perfect gentleman while in their care.
I tried to coax him inside year after year, but he'd only step in just so far, before bolting back out.
In summer, 2021, I simply grabbed him from the porch during a rainstorm, et voila, he was inside.
I was over the moon happy, until he crashed and was too sick to go on.
The Hubby claims that he thought up Paddy's name, but he's mistaken.
I had traveled to Ireland in college, and Paddy's fur was the color of a poured pint o' Guinness, with eyes like Connemara marble.

Rest in Peace, my lovely, much-loved outside boys.
😽😿😽😿😽
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