Furry Companions
I’m sort of named after my dad’s favorite dog Duke. My mother thought Doug was a close, but more reasonable name. Now my male main characters are frequently named Duke. Our family had an early dog name Cocoa who died too soon. After that it’s been all cats. We got to witness the miracle of birth up close, and the sad act of a mother cat carrying her dead kitten after birth. Worse, since we had outdoor cats and lived on a busy street, many of them were hit and killed. I buried one in the backyard. I don’t remember the individuals much, but I know one was a calico called Sophie Hergenmergen.. Most if not all were female.
Much later live in editor Sharon’s sister had a cat named Frodo (not a fan of the name) she couldn’t keep, so we got our first of a long line of cats. Based on his ears and fangs, I converted him to Batface. He was one fine cat, with one big failing. While ball bearing he got into fights with other cats he turned tail, which was bitten, and spent time getting patched up at the vet. He may not have been much of fighter or a lover, so we got him fixed. We got him in Denver, and he traveled with us to Los Angeles and the Bay Area. He was an outdoor cat and would visit with the people that walked past the places where we lived. He was a cool cat. He decided to go live with other people for a while, but we retrieved him. We had this act which had him lying on his back on my arm held out level with my shoulder. While in California I woke up one morning to two Batfaces. On closer inspection I found out his doppelganger was a skinnier lookalike that had broken in. In the summer in Colorado, we’d let a moth in and trap it in a small room. When we let him in, he’d go in and get it, then come out with it in his mouth like and electric bowtie. He was a relaxed dude and friendly with people. In his last home, we started to keep him in the house, but I slipped up and let him out one night. He came back a couple of days later, beaten up. After I left town on business, I got the phone call that he had died. Couldn’t help but cry.
He was such a good cat, he was replaced by two – Pooch a gray tabby, and Boots who was mostly black, but had white feet and tie. After Pooch came home from the vet where she was neutered, he tried to mount her. After that she dominated him. If he was in a lap, she could kick him out if she wanted the lap. She also would meow us goodbye. I could trade “goodbye” to her “meow” for quite a while until she got tired of it. Both of them were indoor cats after losing Batface to his outdoor adventure. Boots had a heart problem and fell off our credenza dead one morning. Pooch lived to be twenty and a half and made moves with us until the place where we live now in Lake Oswego Oregon.
We were introduced to Orville (named after Orville Redenbacher of popcorn fame) because of his reddish/orange back. Orville would run ahead of us while we were walking and then fall on his back. I wonder about that cat behavior – isn’t it dangerous for the cat? Legend has it that he had roamed the neighborhood for years, and left his first home when it got a dog. This went on for a while, and then his people died. Because we had indoor cats that weren’t looking for another cat, he became our outdoor cat. We weren’t too surprised when he moved across the street. We were sorry to see him fade away in their yard.
Harriett, the hairy pet, lost her person and we were persuaded to take her in. She was one calm cookie. Other cats when carried up stairs always freaked, but she was cool. She was not very active, but good company. When she slept beside me, she would face the opposite direction. Was it my breath? She only lasted a couple of years.
We got Kitzhaber, formerly Honey, a little like we got Harriett. His person had dementia and couldn’t keep him. I had been calling him Kitz at a time our governor was John Kitzhaber, a bad governor. I decided Kitz would also be a bad governor so I called him Kitzhaber. Kitz liked editor better, but we got along sometimes. He was forced to be an indoor cat, something he tried to escape, and did at least a couple of times. He broke out of an upstairs window, rolled off the roof, and beat it. Later he was captured across the street in a raccoon trap. He spent a lot of time in editor’s lap. We got him to exercise some with a laser pen. A couple of years ago, he started to fade from a bad heart. We both have heart murmurs so we could bond over that. He also started leaving us dark torpedo shaped gifts outside his litter box. Before we had him put to sleep, I picked him up for the last time and he died. I think we won’t have another.
Saragun Springs 
Doug
Thank you for the week, you are welcome anytime!
As far as Batface goes, I have two Tuxedo Cats on the outdoor payroll. It took awhile before I realized that.
Leila
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Leila –
If that is what I sent you, I made a mistake. It should have been Furry Companions. Is it too late to change?
I’m sort of named after my dad’s favorite dog Duke. My mother thought Doug was a close, but more reasonable name. Now my male main characters are frequently named Duke. Our family had an early dog name Cocoa who died too soon. After that it’s been all cats. We got to witness the miracle of birth up close, and the sad act of a mother cat carrying her dead kitten after birth. Worse, since we had outdoor cats and lived on a busy street, many of them were hit and killed. I buried one in the backyard. I don’t remember the individuals much, but I know one was a calico called Sophie Hergenmergen.. Most if not all were female.
Much later live in editor Sharon’s sister had a cat named Frodo (not a fan of the name) she couldn’t keep, so we got our first of a long line of cats. Based on his ears and fangs, I converted him to Batface. He was one fine cat, with one big failing. While ball bearing he got into fights with other cats he turned tail, which was bitten, and spent time getting patched up at the vet. He may not have been much of fighter or a lover, so we got him fixed. We got him in Denver, and he traveled with us to Los Angeles and the Bay Area. He was an outdoor cat and would visit with the people that walked past the places where we lived. He was a cool cat. He decided to go live with other people for a while, but we retrieved him. We had this act which had him lying on his back on my arm held out level with my shoulder. While in California I woke up one morning to two Batfaces. On closer inspection I found out his doppelganger was a skinnier lookalike that had broken in. In the summer in Colorado, we’d let a moth in and trap it in a small room. When we let him in, he’d go in and get it, then come out with it in his mouth like and electric bowtie. He was a relaxed dude and friendly with people. In his last home, we started to keep him in the house, but I slipped up and let him out one night. He came back a couple of days later, beaten up. After I left town on business, I got the phone call that he had died. Couldn’t help but cry.
He was such a good cat, he was replaced by two – Pooch a gray tabby, and Boots who was mostly black, but had white feet and tie. After Pooch came home from the vet where she was neutered, he tried to mount her. After that she dominated him. If he was in a lap, she could kick him out if she wanted the lap. She also would meow us goodbye. I could trade “goodbye” to her “meow” for quite a while until she got tired of it. Both of them were indoor cats after losing Batface to his outdoor adventure. Boots had a heart problem and fell off our credenza dead one morning. Pooch lived to be twenty and a half and made moves with us until the place where we live now in Lake Oswego Oregon.
We were introduced to Orville (named after Orville Redenbacher of popcorn fame) because of his reddish/orange back. Orville would run ahead of us while we were walking and then fall on his back. I wonder about that cat behavior – isn’t it dangerous for the cat? Legend has it that he had roamed the neighborhood for years, and left his first home when it got a dog. This went on for a while, and then his people died. Because we had indoor cats that weren’t looking for another cat, he became our outdoor cat. We weren’t too surprised when he moved across the street. We were sorry to see him fade away in their yard.
Harriett, the hairy pet, lost her person and we were persuaded to take her in. She was one calm cookie. Other cats when carried up stairs always freaked, but she was cool. She was not very active, but good company. When she slept beside me, she would face the opposite direction. Was it my breath? She only lasted a couple of years.
We got Kitzhaber, formerly Honey, a little like we got Harriett. His person had dementia and couldn’t keep him. I had been calling him Kitz at a time our governor was John Kitzhaber, a bad governor. I decided Kitz would also be a bad governor so I called him Kitzhaber. Kitz liked editor better, but we got along sometimes. He was forced to be an indoor cat, something he tried to escape, and did at least a couple of times. He broke out of an upstairs window, rolled off the roof, and beat it. Later he was captured across the street in a raccoon trap. He spent a lot of time in editor’s lap. We got him to exercise some with a laser pen. A couple of years ago, he started to fade from a bad heart. We both have heart murmurs so we could bond over that. He also started leaving us dark torpedo shaped gifts outside his litter box. Before we had him put to sleep, I picked him up for the last time and he died. I think we won’t have another.
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Hi Doug
I did wonder. But no problem, I will put the fix in, now….
Leila
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Leila –
The Men In Black must have done it. I probably saw Furry in Winword and sent the wrong one. Thanks for bailing me out. I will expand the Saragun Springs series in my blog. I rushed to get the stories to you, now, I can expand at my leisure. Saragun and Clabbers have been my man activity for a few weeks.
MM ________________________________
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MIB locate me with stunning precision anymore!
You are always welcome to send stuff to publish. Actually, average about a hundred looks a day and climbing.
Leila
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There we go Doug! Much nicer! Very warm thing, which I can relate to. Didn’t want anymore pets myself, but they keep showing up!
Leila
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I really enjoyed “Furry Companions,” Duke. I think it says a lot about a person if she is willing to open a place in her heart for a furry friend. Trump doesn’t like animals.
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Dear Doug
In a week of spectacular essays, I think “Furry Companions” is my personal favorite.
You really brought all the animals alive in this piece. Their separate “personalities” came through, and the way you handled the tales of tragedy of some of them and the passing on of most or all of them was very well done, almost Buddhistic – deeply sympathetic and deeply accepting of life’s realities at the same time.
Cats have a very unique place in our world because they are, more than any other animal I can think of, on the border of being between a wild animal and a domesticated one.
Just the other day I watched an all-black mother cat who looked like a small leopard teach six or seven of her all-black kittens how to climb a tree and get up onto the roof of a garage by my apartment.
These are all alley cats, and they all look healthy and strong, although I know their lives are not easy.
Great writing this week, Doug!
Dale
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I left out the rabbit that appeared off and on in our yard until a couple of weeks ago.
For a few years we left out food for feral or neighbor cats. We have not seen any feline visitors for a few years either.
Something for the blog.
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