cats! - george

So, the other cat I had was named George. However, he did not begin his life on this planet with that name. His original name was Tia, after the liqueur: Tia Maria. I decided it was an unfortunate name for a cat, especially a male cat. So, à la Looney Tunes, I named him George. I felt it was appropriate as my first cat was named Sylvester.

the drink george was originally named after (courtesy lcbo.com)

George came to join us when I was away for the weekend. The wife had mentioned that a friend of hers had a cat that they could no longer keep as her daughter had developed allergies to cats. My response to that was that it was all good and well, but I did not want another cat and that we were away often enough that it would be a pain to take him in.

i will name him george, and i will hug him, and pet him, and squeeze him

The wife said he was thirteen years old and that he had a year or two left tops. Still, I said no. The wife said he was the type of cat that kept to himself. Great, I am not fond of snooty cats. No. But you're a cat person. No, actually I am not. I like some cats, like Sylvester. And I like big cats, especially cheetahs, cougars (related to cheetahs), jaguars, and leopards. Especially, snow leopards and clouded leopards. 

So, when I came back, the cat was there. Good thing we agreed on taking him in.

So, my introduction to Tia was him hiding under our bed and refusing to come out. Originally, Tia was a barn cat allegedly descended from great mousers. The friend took him in and made him an indoor only cat. In an apartment. A highrise apartment. Several stories up.

looking for a way out

I looked under the bed and caught a glimpse of this long haired black cat with brown highlights. I looked at the wife and said his name was George. I have a habit of renaming animals. The neighbour boards various animals and when I see them in his yard, I give them names based on behaviour or appearance or what-have-you. He recently had a German Shepherd puppy named Nash, short for Nashville (I think), I renamed him Schnitzel. Another dog, Sparky, is now Knucklehead. A golden lab, whose name I cannot recall, is variable Humpy or Barky. Several visitors are called Moron.

Anyway, George eventually came out and used the litter box and ate, but I never really saw him for at least the first week he was with us. Being a long hair, he coughed up a lot of hairballs. They were long and tubular and they looked like little turds when I first encountered them. In fact, I thought he was taking dumps all over the apartment. In the beginning, I chased him all over trying to discipline him. Then, one day, I actually saw him ralph one up. I stopped chasing him around and just cleaned it up. Just like I cleaned his litter box, and cleaned his food dishes, and fed him, and brushed him, and...

Oh yeah, just remembered. He had lousy aim. He missed the litter box constantly. Both the wife and I, more than once, would step in to a puddle in the middle of the night or early morning. We eventually developed an unconscious ability to step in to the bathroom in a manner to avoid the potential puddles. We still did it for years after George was gone and sometimes we still look down to see if the floor is wet, even though he never lived in the house we are in now.

he liked to sit by the window and watch the buses go by

Back to our regular program. Well, he eventually became my cat. As I said, I took care of his litter, feeding, brushing. I taught him to beg and fed him scraps. He could not quite get the hang of giving paw, as Sylvester learnt (probably from the dog actually), but he would sit and then he would get a treat, usually some meat off my plate.

I could not bear to keep him inside. So, we let him onto our little porch. He never took off, but he actually caught several birds and brought them in to the house. Alive. More than once, the wife or I had to capture these birds with a pillow case or box and release them. Much to George's consternation. He wounded one once and we nursed it back to health and released it. Again, to the cat's consternation.

keeping an eye out for those tasty birds

Eventually, we bought and moved to a townhouse with a postage-stamp sized backyard. I blocked off the bottom of the fence to keep George from wandering out in to the street and getting himself squashed. Well, that did not work. He got out and he survived, so we let him roam. He hung around the complex and had a few choice spots where he would sit regally and survey his empire.

He was not a particularly tough cat, but he generally kept out of trouble and normally kept the other cats around at bay. He seemed to work out an arrangement with a tribe of grey squirrels I had taken to feeding. These guys kept the nastier black nuisances out of our flowerbeds and they did not dig up our tiny garden either.

Anyway, George had lived well beyond the one ore two years tops he was suppose to last. He was with us for eight years. He was twenty-one when we had no choice but to put him down. He had trouble walking, he hardly ate, he became very inactive. So, we called up a Vet that would come to the house that would give him an injection and put him to sleep permanently. 

I told people I assassinated the cat. Well, I paid someone to kill him. I guess it was my way of dealing with losing another cat that I came to see as a friend. Incidentally, as with Sylvester, the Vet said that George's kidneys had shut down and they were probably not functioning properly for maybe as long as a year.

his majesty, in all his glory

So, even though I do not consider myself a cat person, I have had two great cats. Sylvester was one of the all-time great cats ever. George? He was a great cat, not at first for sure, but eventually, he was. An all-time great cat, I would like to think so, even though compared to Sylvester, he was high maintenance. He certainly was cool and entertaining at times.

see ya buddy

I like to think George, Sylvester, and Duchess are chilling together somewhere with Sylvester giving the two of them the odd smack to smarten up every now and again.

Tomorrow, the third and final instalment of Cats! (vol. 1).