Cats I've Known and Loved

I’ve never been without at least one cat since the 1980’s. I’ve been lucky with the cats that have chosen to live with our family (any cat lover knows that cats choose their people – I’ve seen it happen with cats at the Georgia SPCA, too.) Some of the most memorable:

Snagger was a little grey kitten that my husband found, starving, on a riverbank when he was snag fishing in Wisconsin. Snagger would sleep on my head when he was a kitten, but when he grew up, he was a man’s cat; there was something about him, an attitude I guess, that `men really liked. When people came to the door, Snagger wouldn’t run under the bed – he’d rush to the door to greet them. He owned the place and he knew it. He’d walk up to anybody and demand attention. More than one of my husband’s friends told us, “I never liked cats, but there’s something about this one. He’s cool.”

Poor Boo Radley was at the opposite end of the spectrum (that’s how she got her name.) She was a calico kitten we adopted, and as she grew up she became more and more reclusive. She’d hide all day, but when nighttime came, we’d have our ritual; she’d come out of whatever hidey-hole she’d been in and jump on my bed. She’d sleep on me all night – she was a big girl and many a night I’d wake up, unable to breathe, because she was sleeping on my chest - and in the morning – whoosh! – back into her hiding place. To this day, I have no idea where she was during the day, but I could count on seeing her every night.

Then there’s Hammie. He’s a big (almost 16 lbs – he’s on fat-cat diet food now) orange tabby who came to our house as a foster kitten. He’d only been here a couple of days when he got out of his room (I keep my fosters separate from the rest of my household when I first bring them home) and saw our German Shepherd, Amy, sitting at the top of the stairs. I thought, “Oh man, he’s gonna see the dog and freak out and take off and I’ll never find him in this house!” On the contrary, this little orange kitten ran up to the dog, looked up at her, looked down the stairs and back up at the dog as if to say, “OK, where to?” and they were buddies from there on out. Hammie went back to the adoption center a week later, but he was always on my mind, and a few months later my son adopted him. He is the most laid back, easy going boy I have ever seen.

I think every cat is unique, each in its own way. Of all the cats you’ve had, who do you remember best? Who was the coolest, the most loving, the funniest?