That I have an affinity for cats is no secret. I'm well on my way to being a crazy cat lady and really, at this point, why change? Steve and I got our first cat shortly after we were married. Her name was Katie Scarlett O'Hara. She was tiny and mean and really didn't like anyone. She was, in a word, horrible. When she died, at age 21, I don't think she'd ever had one real cat friend. Katie never let anyone get close. But, we loved her just the same.
Emma came to live with us when she was a much older cat. She was sweet, but timid. She never used her voice or had any confidence. One time I found Emma cowering in the corner while Katie picked on her so mercilessly Emma defecated on the floor. I joked that Katie had, literally, scared the shit out of her. Poor old Emma just never really found her place in life. But, we loved her just the same.
Katrina, a refugee from the hurricane of the same name, lived with us only a few months before she died. She never recovered from the trauma. We don't know what she had experienced, exactly, but she was always sickly. We assume she must have been starving at some point because she stole food at every opportunity. Most notable was the time she jumped on the table and swiftly stole a foil wrapped baked potato almost as big as she was. Thank God she didn't notice there was sour cream. Katrina didn't give much back. But, we loved her just the same.
We adopted Boe from a family who was moving to Japan. They said they couldn't take him but I think they just didn't have room. Boe was a little overweight. Okay, Boe was a lot overweight. Okay, Boe was a fatso. He weighed in at 23 pounds and really, really, really liked food. But Boe was sweet and kind and caring and welcoming. We had to put Boe down when cancer compromised his quality of life. Even up to his final goodbye, though, Boe was cheerful and loving. And hungry. But, we loved him just the same.
Thor was a punk. He didn't have a tail, was slightly lame, and had a curved spine. He acted like Mr. Tough Guy but was charming in his own way. He died of a bladder blockage at a very young age but while he was with us he made us laugh. Nothing much intimidated that scrappy little cat. Even Parker, at over six foot tall, could be seen screaming and running away when Thor started stalking him. Thor might have had 'little cat complex.' But, we loved him just the same.
Mr. Pankey died suddenly a few weeks ago. We don't exactly know what went wrong but he had some sort of neurological dysfunction. We adopted Mr. Pankey and Tyler (who is still with us) shortly after the back-to-back deaths of Boe and Thor. Mr. Pankey was quirky to say the least. He often wanted attention but just didn't quite know how to ask for it. He'd ask to be petted but then avoid our touch. He loved Tyler more than anyone and wanted to be friends with our girl cat, Princess. But she declined his invitation. Mr. Pankey was socially awkward. But, we loved him just the same.
Recently we welcomed Oliver into our home. Here he is helping me write this blog post:
He's a sweet boy. Aptly named, he's forever hungry and loves to go through drawers and steal things. He is also a little clingy and needy but we hope in time he will understand that he won't be abandoned and living on the streets again.
The interesting thing about cats is, they are all unique. They approach life and people and food and comfort and relationships and death differently. And they do best when they are understood, loved, and accepted just as they are.
Sort of like people.
*Credit for the title of this post goes to my friend Dan who loves all things silly.
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