It was clear that we needed a new companion to fill the void left by Callaghan and then Crystal, after their passing. Almost on a whim, we stopped by the Durham Animal Shelter. Certainly it is no secret that I am not a cat person, but at a weak moment was willing to acquiesce to one cat for companionship. We looked at all of the cats and decided on a calico cat with the sweetest and most gentle disposition. As we were staring into her cage, a cat from the cage right next to the calico reached out and scratched Rusty on the nose, drawing blood. There was no malice in the action rather he attacked as if to to say I am marking you as mine. We ended up adopting both as they were siblings and we were discouraged from adopting just one cat for fear the cat would be maladjusted. We named the cats Boris and Natasha after the Rocky and Bullwinkle characters also sharing an ambiguous relationship (are they married? brother and sister? fellow anarchists? Who knows?) Both were so sweet and calm, well...until the meds kicked in and the kennel cough they were suffering from wore off. They then became the kittens from hell. I guess I kinda bonded with these two because I assisted our good friend Mel in the spaying and neutering. A humbling process to be sure. Assisting really confirmed how tenuous our hangers really are gentlemen. Mel actually let me keep Boris' gonads in a jar. Why you might ask? I wanted to be sure that Boris knew who the alpha dog was in the house...it didn't work, I think Boris eventually asserted himself in that position regardless.
Soon after adopting, a move to Fuquay afforded our felines a wetland behind the house with lots of room to roam and with that our cats settled into a pattern of domesticity calming down considerably. Soon it became clear that Natasha was a vicious hunter and Boris would be the home body (more dog than cat). Boris would often play chase with Keiko. Our dog would viciously chew on Boris causing no small measure of concern, until we realize Boris actually encouraged Keiko to chew on his tummy and back. Memories include that Natasha wouldn't go to bed until after she sat on my chest for about five minutes in bed. Also a memory of Natasha bringing in wounded birds to flap around the living room with bloodied wings staining the walls, a mouse brought in one Christmas in which all of our animals refused to capture this small and potentially destructive rodent and ended up just watching until we eventually pulled the cabinet out and trapped it before moving it outside.
Boris catching some rays with Yosiell.
Upon moving to California, Tasha became the neighborhood socialite, visiting and charming the people in nearly every household and Boris spent his days looking for the hottest ray of sunshine inside or out. He become the most demanding cat insisting on a full water and food bowl no matter whether in the wee hours of the AM or a respectable afternoon time. As of today we are officially cat-less. Unfortunately, we had to put Boris down. It is easy to focus on this last few days in which Boris has been not well, but I prefer to keep the memories alive of a good companion. For being a non cat person, I certainly grew to love these two sweet very un-cat like felines. Our household feels a little emptier today, but fortunately is still filled with some pretty incredible memories
