Shelter Cats and Redemption

Today's the day. Twenty years ago today, by my estimations at least, the greatest cat that ever lived was born.....somewhere.....on Long Island. In truth I never knew Tyler's exact birthday, neither did his shelter. So, I gave him one. Today. June 9th, 1999. Happy 20th birthday, old man.  I'm glad I was able to clean up your final resting place yesterday, finally, and apologies to Ashley for getting poison ivy while assisting me. Sorry! How I wish you were here.  It's still not quite the same without you, but I'm hanging in there. Until I see you again, I'll keep your story, and your memory, fresh in my mind and fresh in this blog. Speaking of which, let's read about the rest of his "coming home" story without any further ado. 5. December 9th, 2000 “What does that mean?” I asked my mother.  Serious?  A cat doesn’t smile, they ALWAYS look serious. “I don't know, he looks like an owl, or a bandit.  He has a serious look...

The story continues, and one more day until the big 2-0 for Tyler! Let's pick up right where we left off with Tyler's awesome story. 3. Tyler My escort to the cattery was a shelter employee named Gayle.  Or Gail.  I never asked how she spelled it.  Anyway, she had 9 cats and was the resident expert on every cat.   “What are you looking for?  Any specific color?” She asked, obviously expecting a snobby Long Island answer.  Apparently on Long Island (Lawn Guyland) people matched their pets to their decor.  That always pissed me off.  Match their PERSONALITY to your decor, not the color of their fur! “I’m looking for a cool, friendly cat.  I still live at home with my parents, so we prefer one already declawed.” “Oh, we have a few.  You would never declaw a cat would you?” “Never, been there asked that.” I did not want to get into THAT again. A short walk behind some barking dog kennels and we were at the fro...

Let Tyler's 20th birthday celebration begin! As promised, let's re-live, or in my case, re-blog, the, to me at least, incredible, amazing, awesome story of how Tyler, my first and still best cat ever, came to be in my life. I hope you enjoy this trip down memory lane as much as I do! 1. "I understand, you need something to love." Animals never did well in my home as a kid.  Even before I was born.  My parents had a German shepherd named Knappie (named for Napoleon Solo from The Man from UNCLE) who had an outright hatred of my mother.  I’ve seen a picture, and he was basically the size of a horse. He LOVED my father, but my mother, not a chance.  Apparently he knew when she was pregnant with me and turned on her.  When my dad would leave for work he would stand eye to eye with her and stare her down.  So….he went to live at a farm out east, or so they told me.  I always wondered what happened to him.  My first REAL pet was Casey....

Here's something wild, or at least wild for me to contemplate. Next Sunday, June 9th, would have been Tyler's 20th birthday. TWENTY. Imagine what he'd be like, if he was still around?  An even older, crotchetier, old man cat? Is crotchetier even a word?  Hey google?  Hey, Siri?  Is it? In honor of the old man's special birthday, I'm going to re-post one blog per day all week long, leading up to the big day next Sunday. Re-live the memories, or for those of you new to the blog, read up on how the Tyler, the greatest cat that ever lived, and the reason I even have this blog, came into my life. It's going to be all Tyler, all the time!

So, what's new pussycat? Admit it, the song is on your head now too, right? Well, it occurred to me I haven't been blogging as much as I used to.  I apologize. Between feeling under the weather and the new job taking up a ton of my brain power, time is just escaping me lately. So, what's been new with my cats? TONS! Let's break up this update into two halves.  The innies and the outies. First up, the innies. Sophie, Tucker, and Minnie are better than ever.  Loving life, loving each other, and making each day worth while! Tucker and Minnie are now cuddle buddies: Tucker is two years into his life in his forever home! Tucker even recreated one of Jackson's famous poses: Sophie remains the matriarch and every bit in charge! Minnie has taken over for Jackson as the laundry inspector: Next, the outies! First and foremost, Minnie's brother Speck made a return appearance afte...

On this date, and day, back in 2000, I brought Tyler home from Little Shelter.  I've been so wrapped up in my new job that, amazingly enough, this didn't pop into my head until the middle of the afternoon.  Sorry, Tyler.  I think that was your way of reminding me right? Speaking of reminding, here's the story of that awesome day. Saturday, December 9th, 2000 “What does that mean?” I asked my mother.  Serious?  A cat doesn’t smile, they ALWAYS look serious. “I don't know, he looks like an owl, or a bandit.  He has a serious look on his face.” “I think he’s cool looking.” My father replied.  Well, thank god at least he shares my opinion. We went inside.  Now, as I said, we were living high on the hog in those days.  My father had a well-paying job, my mother had several credit cards with a large amount of credit, and me….well…..I was just starting out in the museum world as a budding curator.  What’s a curator?...

Something awesome occurred to me the other day.   I should end this blog right here, right? Shut up. No, seriously, this is important. Sophie broke the curse! What curse, you ask? Bear with me as I explain this one. Tyler, my first and best cat, lived with me for just about 14 of his 15+ years. Tiger, my second cat, lived with me for just over 4 years.  To be exact, just 6 days shy of 4 and a quarter years. His successor, Jackson, lived with me for exactly the same amount of time.  Just 6 days shy of 4 and a quarter years. Notice a pattern?  I call it a curse. Why the fuck did that happen?  Coincidence?  Russian hacking?  Some strange conspiracy?  I think not.  Whatever strange thing caused both Tiger and Jackson to cross the Rainbow Bridge after precisely the same amount of time with me will forever baffle me.  Whatever caused it, it was not enough time. It never is, is it? Until Sophie, that is.  Sophie, as o...