I thought this photograph of my long passed cat Little Bit Of Love was long gone, but I found it in my late father's papers. My mother insisted in taking this photo of me when she saw me pick up my cat who had been hunting in their field. I remember being annoyed at having to pause in what I was doing to pose for a photograph, but now I see what she saw. And I see that she loved me very much to capture such a lovely photograph.
Little Bit Of Love was born into my hand and she loved me and only me for her entire life. She lived eighteen or nineteen years. She had zero interest in other people, and she lived to hunt. She was an superb hunter. One day I awoke to the flailings of a dying bird that Little Bit Of Love had brought into my bed and pinioned there beside me. Apparently she wanted to teach me to hunt. It was horrible. I named the cat Little Bit Of Love to gentle her soul, but I had only limited success. She loved only me.
Caption: Annmarie Throckmorton And Little Bit Of Love,
Who Was A Mean Cat Who Loved Only Me, 1988
She wore her big loose collar like a badge of honor, and easily learned to stalk prey without jingling it.