Fur Ball
04/26/05 Filed in: Folderol
Wil Wheaton has had an
amazing professional life this year: he's a
successful writer and columnist, he's had his
return to prime time TV with a guest shot on CSI,
and the improv troupe he's a part of is kickin'
butt in L.A. He's had a bad run of luck on the pet
side of things though. One of his cats, Felix,
died of kidney failure in February, and just the
other day, his Maine Coon cat Sketch had a heart
attack and died while Wil was away on business.
About 5 months after I started seeing Jo, Julian, one of her cats, crawled to the base of the front porch, mysteriously injured, and not long after that died in her arms. We think he may have been glanced by a passing car, but there wasn't severe trauma or indeed, much blood at all. He was by far the most outdoorsy of the cats, showing up to eat and get him some lovin', but spending most of his time chasing squirrels or beating down field mice. And although I didn't know him all that well, it fell to me to give him his burial. Mind you, this was mid-late December, and the ground didn't give easily to the spade, but bury him we did; he rests near the back fence next to another family cat, Junior.
We survived with the three remaining kitties: Rocky and Sophie, who are litter mates, and Binx, who was Julian's brother. Binx is the alpha cat, endlessly patient with the others (famously rescued Rocky from his precarious perch in a tree once), and marvelously vocal when petted. He has sort of a high pitched stuck-muffler sound, completely endearing and quite soothing.
About a year ago, we all traipsed off to the Cat Show at a local hotel and cooed over the many balls of fur in both the Pure-Bred and Domestic rooms, and not long after that, Jo and I visited the Clifton Animal shelter. There we were chosen by a tiny, pawsy striped guy who'd been abandoned in a supermarket parking lot, and who the shelter had named, coincidentally, Binx. A week later (after the necessary visit to the vet), we brought him home and christened him Twidge.
He's been mostly an indoor cat, but lately we've been unable to restrain him when the other cats go out. Binx has taken charge of the little guy, following him and keeping him in line as he explores the wonder that is 'outside'.
I get a wee tense when Twidge is off on his jaunts. There are dangers out there: dogs and raccoons and the neighborhood bully cat and, of course, cars. But I'm heartened that Binx is keeping an eye out, and I'd like to imagine that maybe Julian, Junior, Felix and Sketch are, too.
About 5 months after I started seeing Jo, Julian, one of her cats, crawled to the base of the front porch, mysteriously injured, and not long after that died in her arms. We think he may have been glanced by a passing car, but there wasn't severe trauma or indeed, much blood at all. He was by far the most outdoorsy of the cats, showing up to eat and get him some lovin', but spending most of his time chasing squirrels or beating down field mice. And although I didn't know him all that well, it fell to me to give him his burial. Mind you, this was mid-late December, and the ground didn't give easily to the spade, but bury him we did; he rests near the back fence next to another family cat, Junior.
We survived with the three remaining kitties: Rocky and Sophie, who are litter mates, and Binx, who was Julian's brother. Binx is the alpha cat, endlessly patient with the others (famously rescued Rocky from his precarious perch in a tree once), and marvelously vocal when petted. He has sort of a high pitched stuck-muffler sound, completely endearing and quite soothing.
About a year ago, we all traipsed off to the Cat Show at a local hotel and cooed over the many balls of fur in both the Pure-Bred and Domestic rooms, and not long after that, Jo and I visited the Clifton Animal shelter. There we were chosen by a tiny, pawsy striped guy who'd been abandoned in a supermarket parking lot, and who the shelter had named, coincidentally, Binx. A week later (after the necessary visit to the vet), we brought him home and christened him Twidge.
He's been mostly an indoor cat, but lately we've been unable to restrain him when the other cats go out. Binx has taken charge of the little guy, following him and keeping him in line as he explores the wonder that is 'outside'.
I get a wee tense when Twidge is off on his jaunts. There are dangers out there: dogs and raccoons and the neighborhood bully cat and, of course, cars. But I'm heartened that Binx is keeping an eye out, and I'd like to imagine that maybe Julian, Junior, Felix and Sketch are, too.
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