It’s Valentine’s Day! I thought I would share some old Valentine’s art I made for calendars years ago.
This, of course, is Angel. I think the original photo was taken the first Valentine’s Day after she came to live with us.
This one was taken the weekend before Harri died. He and Patrick were such good friends…they were such great boys, too.
Hsppy Valentine’s Day everyone!
This morning, Facebook greeted me with this memory of Gun-Hee and Patrick on New Year’s day 2007. Pretty remarkable, actually, considering I wasn’t even on Facebook back then!
Gun-Hee LOVED Patrick, right from the very beginning.
Trick, on the other hand…well, they were 12 years apart in age, and he’d recently lost his best friend Harri, so it took him a little while to warm up.
But Gun-Hee persevered. Or, to be more honest, he wore Trick down.
And when an Abyssinian puts his mind to something…resistance is futile.
A year later, they were the best of friends. Patrick, who for some reason preferred boycats to females, was particularly sad when Gun-Hee died less than two years after Harri. Perhaps the three of them are together with Jacoby in StarClan.
This morning, Facebook greeted me with a reminder of a post I made four years ago. I was challenged to post five photos of my cats, and I decided to post five group photos. Getting a photo of all the cats in the house together at the same time is harder than some might think. So, because of the reminder that Facebook sent me, I decided to post all the “family photos” I have been able to capture over the years.
The oldest is this, of Sigrid, Harri, and Patrick cuddled together on my sofa. This was taken in autumn 1997. It looks cuddly, but actually Sigrid and Tricky were sleeping there, and Harri decided to squeeze in between them. Still cute, though.
This is after I’d moved to Boston. Harri and Patrick had been joined by Tessie and Kylie. This is the first photo of all of them together.
This is my favourite photo of this group. I even used it as a Christmas card.
…And this would be the outtake of that photo…
This was Christmas 2006. Harri had died in August and we had just adopted Gun-Hee.
This photo is less posed, but more my favourite. Love Kylie’s arm!
Another photo of Gun-Hee with Patrick, Kylie and Tessie, this time all gathered on our bed.
This is another shot from that session, “arted up” in Photoshop.
One evening, all the cats lined up on the back of the sofa.
I had this shot…but Gun-Hee moved his head.
Thanks to Photoshop, I was able to replace Gun-Hee’s head and make this into a usable image.
This is another “art” composite photo. All of them were on the tree together, but this is multiple shots combined so each cat looks good.
Food and the kitchen is a great way to get everyone together. Here we have (anticlockwise) Jacoby, Angel, Tessie and Kylie.
However, they did have other motivations to gather together.
After we moved to Sweden, the kitchen was more a gathering point than ever. Here we have Alfred, Jake, Angel, Logan and Pyret.
And then, suddenly…our five cats became Jake, Freddy, Lorelai, Angel and Izaak.
A collection that was also easier to gather in the kitchen.
But they also gathered spontaneously on our bed! No Photoshop required.
When pets are cremated in Sweden, it seems the pet crematoriums return the ashes to you in a simple, pine box. This is how Björn received the ashes of first Olivia and then Pyret, and that’s how we got Logan back from the vet as well.
Lorelai came to see what was left of the brother and show companion she will never get to meet.
Bittersweet photo, isn’t it? Hang one, more where that came from.
To my surprise, when I opened the box Logan’s ashes came in, they were just loose inside! Back in the States, you would get the ashes in a box, sure, but the ashes inside the box were in a plastic bag of some sort.
Alfred also came to investigate Logan’s loose ashes. Yeah, that’s the more bittersweet thing I mentioned earlier.
Of course, for Harri and Patrick, I had lovely urns made by Alex in Welderland, and while I love them, another would be too heavy and too expensive to ship from the States to Europe. Gun-Hee didn’t have so much as an urn as a “memorial box” which included a flask of his ashes along with other souvenirs of his short life. I looked online for cat urn options in Europe and eventually discovered Etsy seller 1st4Signs.
It’s really beautiful. The box is oak, with an engraved slate top and a photo of Logan. Of course, Freddy was on hand to help me put his brother from another mother into his final cat bed.
I poured Logan’s ashes into the fancy new box. They fit perfectly.
Then we put the lid back on.
It fastens with two brass screws. Jacoby came to see what was going on while I was screwing the lid back on.
Not sure how a screwdriver equals a possible meal, but all right…
There we are. Logan is in his final resting place.
Freddy and Jake say goodbye to Logan one last time.
No Jake…this won’t be you for a very, very long time. I hope.
For now, Logan is on the windowsill near Björn’s computer underneath which Pyret loved to sleep, next to Pyret and Olivia’s ash-boxes. Eventually we’ll have everyone’s ashes on one shelf somewhere. It just seems so sad that the older we get, the more little boxes of ashes we collect.
(Also…and I am sorry it’s such a depressing post…but, happy birthday, Sherry!)
Lorelai has been with us for a week now, and it’s like she’s always been here. She’s feisty, trusting, playful, curious and just…perfect. Jacoby growls at her, she doesn’t care. She pushes Angel and Jake away from their leftovers if she’s still hungry. She holds her own with Alfred even though he’s nearly 10 times her size. She’s had no litter box issues, no eating problems…nothing. She just integrated herself right into the cat family.
Kind of like another Aby kitten I know. Gun-Hee was a lot like Rory. Jake, Freddy and Logan were somehow not as easy. They all had giardia as kittens, and, I don’t know. It just felt like it took a lot more work managing those three as kittens compared to Rory and Gun-Hee.
We got Gun-Hee on 15 December 2006, the day before he turned three months old.
We tried to keep him separated from Tessie, Kylie and Patrick when we first brought him home. That lasted about five minutes. He would have none of it. The older cats were…not the most welcoming at first.
Gun-hee didn’t care.
He just stood his ground.
For some reason, Patrick was his particular favourite. Patrick was still missing Harri, who had died four months earlier.
Gun-Hee eventually wore him down.
He loved Patrick.
Kylie was the closest to him in age (she was only 17 months older than him), so they also became friends rather quickly.
Tessie was a little slower to thaw.
But Gun-Hee eventually melted her, too.
He also loved the floor-to-ceiling cat tree in my old apartment.
He loved being on the top, epsecially.
Rory takes on that same floor-to-ceiling cat tree and, if she falls off, she just climbs back up. As I am typing this, she’s at the very top of it, trying to touch the ceiling. Gun-Hee was like that, too.
Another thing they have in common is shoulder-riding. Neither Jake, Angel, Freddy or even Logan have ever been able to stay on a shoulder. Jake is particularly bad at it; I say it’s like he has magnets on his feet that are the opposite of the ones on people’s shoulders and he just can’t stay on. It’s nice to have a shoulder-riding kitten again.
And Gun-Hee could be cuddly, too. Just like Rory. It’s a little eerie how much she reminds me of him.
This week’s Photo Hunt subject is “Snazzy.”
I have this very snazzy, super deluxe, floor-to-ceiling cat tree from Drs. Foster and Smith. I had it in the kitchen of my old apartment in Somerville, and Harri, Patrick, Tessie, Kylie and Gun-Hee all loved it.
Patrick especially loved it.
I mean, he really loved it.
I got it in 2005 as a replacement for the older, blue one I’d brought with me from Atlanta, which was getting a little ragged. Patrick couldn’t wait for us to unpack it.
He even helped to assemble it.
He could not even wait for it to be put together before he was climbing on it!
Sadly, it wasn’t tall enough for the very high ceilings in the old condo, so when I moved out of my apartment in March 2009, the awesome tree went into storage.
When I got Angel in 2008, I wasn’t spending much time at my old apartment although I still kept it for a few months after I married. I’m not sure if she has ever seen this cat tree (but she really loved the floor-to-ceiling cat tree my mom has at her house, and wasted no time climbing it). I know Jacoby never has, since it was put into storage before he was even born!
But on Monday, it was packed up to go to Sweden.
It was pretty amazing to watch the mover pack it up in paper.
We decided not to take it apart, except for the very top, spring-loaded part.
He was so fast! I couldn’t imagine wrapping up a cat tree in moving paper…but then, he’s a professional.
So, here’s my snazzy cat tree, all packed up and ready to go. Next stop, Sweden!
Björn found another holiday cartoon I drew while clearing the basement storage for the imminent arrival of all my crap. This one was a quick sketch I drew, without pencil, for his then-girlfriend Titti back in 1997 when I was living in San Francisco with my two Siamese Harri and Patrick.
A quick sketch like that? Of course I didn’t remember it after 18 years. But when he showed it to me on Sunday when he discovered it I was instantly struck with the similarity of this little scribble of Patrick and Harri to this cartoon I did in 2013 starring, of course, Jacoby and Angel:
I mean, okay, the joke is different…but the basic dynamic is very similar. I’m also amused that Harri seems to have transitioned from being the “goofball” (aka Jake) character into being the “intelligent straight-man” (aka Angel) character with the introduction of Patrick, who was younger, rather than Sigrid, who – like Angel – was older than Harri. Or, the girlcat is always smarter…when there is no girlcat, the older cat is smarter.
Still…interesting to see an embryonic idea become a full-fledged cartoon years later…even if it was a complete accident!
Today is a very special day – it’s Kylie’s 10th birthday!
Of course, we don’t know her exact birthday, but we got her on June 20, and she was about 7 or 8 weeks old. So, counting back, we decided that her birthday was April 24.
My husband wanted a tiny girl kitten. I found a Craigslist post for free kittens in Quincy, and when I emailed the man, he said he had mostly white kittens and one grey tabby. My husband kind of wanted a tabby, but by the time we got to the house, only the white kittens were left. We saw them running around, and then heard a tiny “mew” from a side table behind us. The tiny mew came from a tiny, white kitten with two grey stripes on her head. And that was that.
Kylie was tiny when we got her, too.
She was literally the same size as a Beanie Baby cat! We got to meet her mother, who was a very petite, slender all-white shorthair with odd-coloured eyes, one green and one blue. Her name was Mary Jane, and she was so pretty. To this day, I wish I’d taken a camera along and gotten a photo of her.
At the time, I had my two Siamese, Harri, aged 14, and Patrick, aged 11. We had just gotten Tessie a month before, and she was meant to be Kylie’s mother figure and playmate, since the boys were a little old to be much fun for an active, lively kitten. This is one of Kylie’s first encounters with Tessie…it got better.
Kylie was a very lively kitten.
She was the type who would play with anything.
Anything!
A piece of plastic foil wrapping paper was an awesome toy. I think she played with this for days.
Despite being 14 years older than Kylie, Harri really loved her. He always loved other cats and kittens; even though he was an only cat until he was 3, Harri was the most welcoming, friendly cat I’ve ever known – he never minded having other cats around him.
Kylie looked up to Tessie as her role model.
“This is how you lie on a hot day, Kylie.” “Okay, Tessie, am I doing it right?”
Like I said…Kylie was tiny. Look at her compared to Tessie in this photo!
She was tough, though. She could hold her own against Tessie, despite the size difference.
Tessie was so patient with her. Of course, Tessie had one litter of kittens before I adopted her, so she knew how to handle Kylie.
Kylie and Tessie were almost always together. Even today they still sleep together.
Kylie was also fond of Patrick.
They would play together. At the time, Patrick was our largest cat; he was a bit chunky at 13-14lbs. It was comical to watch Kylie and Patrick play together because of their size difference.
Patrick was always the last cat to accept a newcomer. I guess Kylie won him over.
Trick even shared the cave at the top of the cat tree with her!
This photo of the four of them sleeping together on my bed in my old apartment was my Christmas card in 2005.
Kylie loved to play and cuddle with stuffed kittens. This was one of her most favourite “dollies.”
Harri died in August of 2006, and then that following December, Gun-Hee joined the family. Kylie was only a year older than Gun-Hee, so they were pretty close.
She took on the role that Tessie had taken with her.
You would find them together a lot.
They used to play together all the time.
They had projects, like trying to open the dishwasher. Gun-Hee was the brains and Kylie was the muscles of the operation.
They hung out together.
She helped him celebrate his first birthday. She was really sad when Gun-Hee died and she mourned him. She didn’t eat treats for a week.
She was quick to accept Jacoby, too. I think she was happy to have another Aby to play with.
Kylie and Jake have always gotten along.
She was one of the first to not hiss at him and let him play with her, actually.
They like to go out to the park together, too…although Kylie isn’t as brave around dogs as Jake is.
But since Kylie is four years older than Jake, their bond isn’t quite the same as the one she and Gun-Hee’ shared.
They share a love of high places.
This is also a common sight at our house: Jake cuddling with Tessie and Kylie.
Angel always seems to be the odd cat out. Of all the cats, Kylie and Angel probably interact the least. I think that’s more Angel’s doing than Kylie’s, though.
I had Kylie’s DNA tested at UC Davis. We think her father was a tabby Maine Coon. Since her mother was a white shorthair, those dominant traits covered up anything her father was carrying. I know that she does carry the genes for long hair, dilute, and tabby, and that her ancestors originated in England rather than the Middle East or Asia. Underneath her dominant white, she is probably a non-dilute tabby, and she may actually be a torbie (UCD doesn’t have a test for sex-linked red). While Kylie is small like her mother, she is built like a Maine Coon, with a long tail, lanky legs and a boxy muzzle. She’s just a miniature shorthaired version.
She also does a mean Hello Kitty impersonation!
It’s hard to believe she’s 10 years old. Happy birthday, Kylie!
Originally there were only going to be two parts to this series…but it turned out to be four parts! This is about the crossover between the Siamese regime and the Abyssinian era and who from my old life knew the cats I have today.
I met my future husband in 2003. Before he met me, he’d never really known any cats. In fact, he told me he didn’t like cats. I asked him why, and he responded, “Well, they don’t love you. They aren’t loyal. They don’t greet you at the door when you come home, you can’t play with them or take them to the park…” “Ah,” I said. “You haven’t met my cats.” And, sure enough, he saw the error of his assumptions. So much so that he decided he wanted his very own kitten to raise himself and be “his” cat. This was in 2005, when Harri was 14 and Patrick was 11; of course, those two old bachelors would be no match for a hyper young cat.
So I adopted Tessie. Her registered name is Bes Butterfly; Tessie fit the sounds well enough and also evoked the previous year’s World Series victory. I found her on the Retired Friends list (the same place I’d found Patrick eight years before) and fell in love with her photos and her description. She’d also had her own litter of kittens, so she knew how to handle them. I’d originally been looking for a Siamese, and then branched out to Burmese and eventually found Tessie under Asians.
Tessie fit right in.
Tessie was 12 years younger than Harri, but they formed an almost instant bond.
I always said it was because they were both born in the Year of the Goat, and had many qualities in common. But whatever the reason, they became fast friends.
Tessie adored Harri.
And the feeling was mutual.
They often slept cuddled together.
Tessie’s relationship with Patrick was more complicated. I think Patrick was a little jealous of Tess’ friendship with Harri.
However, they did get along. These two photos were taken not long after Harri died. Both Tessie and Patrick loved Harri, so I think they bonded for a while.
But at best they were more roommates than actual friends.
Sometimes, Patrick would pretend Tessie wasn’t even there.
Tessie has always been our nurse cat. That may have been why she was so drawn to Harri; he was in pain from his arthritis and also on daily medication for his thyroid. When Patrick came home after yet another dental procedure, Tessie would look after him.
And then, in June 2005, Kylie the kitten arrived on the scene.
Tessie was cast in the big sister/auntie role to deflect Kylie’s attention from the older boys. Turns out, that was a good call!
Kylie idolised Tessie and did everything she did. She was like Tessie’s little white shadow.
Harri always loved other cats, especially kittens. He would run up and greet them, and seemed taken aback when they would hiss in his face.
He watched over Kylie like an uncle.
Harri really loved Kylie, but as she got older and he got more frail, she started avoiding him, and would hiss at him when he got too close. I think that really hurt his feelings.
Patrick and Kylie had an odd relationship.
For one, he was just so much bigger than she was! I don’t think he really knew how to deal with her.
Harri died in August 2006. This photo was probably the last “portrait” of Harri, Patrick, Tessie and Kylie together. It was taken in
In December 2006, I got my very first Abyssinian…Gun-Hee!
Patrick took to Gun-Hee right away – this photo was taken the day after we brought Gun-Hee home. Like Tessie and Harri, Gun-Hee and Patrick were 12 years apart and were both born in the Year of the Dog. Say what you will about astrology, I’ve always wondered what it was that caused the two cats born under the same Chinese zodiac animal to become bonded not once, but twice.
Patrick became closer to Gun-Hee than he ever did to Tessie or Kylie.
And apparently Gun-Hee felt the same way.
Of course, Gun-Hee got along with everyone.
He and Patrick just had an especially close friendship.
Patrick was crushed when Gun-Hee died, only two years after he’d lost Harri.
But for those two years, we had a happy family. After Gun-Hee’s death, as I said last week, Patrick just went into a decline. At the same time, I discovered Angel being fostered by Purebreds Plus, whose headquarters are in Vacaville, CA, only about 20 miles from where I grew up. We needed another Aby to fill the hole Gun-hee left, and Angel needed a home. At the same time, Patrick needed some boycat buddies. So…Patrick went back home to California, and Angel came to Boston. A year later, Jacoby happened…and the rest is history!
1997 was a pretty big year for me.
Harri turned 6, and Sigrid turned 9. Harri was a little too playful for our older lady.
So I added Patrick, to be Harri’s friend and wrassle partner. And then, a month later, I moved into my own apartment with all three Siamese. Sigrid, however, was in love with my ex-boyfriend, and became depressed. So, she ended up going back to live with him. I was sad and I missed her terribly…but she was so much happier with him (and, I think, without the two boisterous boys).
Harri and Patrick became fast friends. They didn’t seem to miss Sigrid at all, even if I did. A year later, we all moved all the way across the country from San Francisco to Atlanta.
It was a pretty huge move, but my boys took it in stride.
The house we lived in had a deck, which both Harri and Patrick enjoyed to its fullest.
Atlanta and I did not agree, so after almost two years, we all moved again, to Boston. Harri and I flew first; my ex brought Patrick a week later.
Harri always loved hotel rooms.
My new apartment was on the third floor of a typical Sommerville triple-decker, and it had a sunroof over the landing. I made this into a sort of patio for the boys to enjoy.
Harri and Patrick were the best of friends. Harri was still bonded to me, but Patrick was bonded to Harri. He actually got more upset if Harri was gone overnight than if I was.
This is one of my favourite photos of Harri. I took this at the vet.
And this is one of my favourite photos of Patrick. Patrick was actually a registered TICA Siamese and his name was Sugarhills Twinkletoes. I got him from a breeder of Devon Rexes and Sphynxes; Patrick was their “pet” but he was twice the size of the dainty Rexes and delicate Spynxes and played too roughly with them. I found him on the Retired Friends website. Yes, in 1997 I found a cat on the internet! In 2005, I would find Tessie on the same website.
I had to rename Patrick; there was no way I was going to have a cat called “Twinkie.” But his nickname was “Tricky,” which sounds similar. He never had a problem with the name change. He was named after Patrick Roy…but his full name was Patrick Tinglatårna (Twinkletoes, in Swedish).
Patrick had bad teeth. Really bad teeth. He had about half of them removed over the course of his life. One of these was a canine so he ended up with this sort of sneer when his lip would get caught on the tooth that was left.
Harri and Patrick at the vet. When I lived in Somerville, I went to Porter Square Veterinary, which was about five blocks from my apartment. I used to walk with both boys – in their bags – for appointments.
They always did everything together.
Except when Harri had to go in the back for bloodwork. Harri had hypothyroid starting when he turned 13, and had to get bloodwork done every 6 months.
Patrick was quite a character, though. He was always doing really goofy things.
Like this.
Or sitting in front of the fan and meowing into it to hear the sound of his voice.
He also loved cereal. Not the milk…the actual cereal.
Even though Harri had Patrick, he was always my boy.
I still took him out and about, albeit not as much as when we were active in the SCA. But he did go to Boston Common.
On his 10th birthday, we went to Long Island.
Sun, sand and surf. Except it was April, and still kind of chilly.
That was a fun weekend, though.
Harri may have been 10, but he still loved to explore.
He was the only cat I’ve ever had that I trusted to be off-leash. He would panic if I was out of his sight, so I knew he’d never wander off. (Patrick, on the other hand…yeah, not so much.)
Although there was this one time when we had a blizzard in Boston…
Harri wanted nothing – I mean, nothing to do with the snow. He took one look at it and ran back up three flights of stairs. But Patrick had to check it out.
I’m not sure if he regretted his decision or not…but he did make the best of it.
Harri also really loved Christmas. It may have been because of his trips to see Santa, but I have a video of him trying to open his own presents, and one year he tried really hard to pull down his stocking. And he knew which one was his.
Harri loved to sit near the tree, and watch the lights. Patrick…well, Patrick liked to sit next to Harri.
Harri and Patrick were the best of friends for 9 years. This photo was taken the Sunday before Harri died.
Poor Harri had such bad arthritis in his last couple of years. I gave him Cosequin, but he was still in pain. He was my loyal protector right to the end, though. These two photos were taken just before we went to the vet for the last time.
After Harri died, Patrick was so bereft. Gun-Hee’s arrival four months later helped a lot (as you will see next week), but Patrick was always kind of lost after Harri left us.
After Gun-Hee died, Patrick really got depressed. He never really bonded with any of the girls, despite having known them longer than he knew Gun-Hee. It turns out, Patrick really preferred to be around boycats. So, I took Patrick to live with my mom, and my sister’s two boys, Madison and Baxter.
This is Patrick and Madison the weekend I brought Patrick to my mom’s house. The same weekend, and he’s already sharing a bed!
Patrick and Madison became fast friends. I wonder if Madison being a bluepoint and white Siamese mix had anything to do with it?
I went back to visit Tricky in June, 2010. He’d been living with my mom for almost two years at that point, and he was so happy. He died that November, on Thanksgiving weekend, a month after his 16th birthday. He was luckier than Harri; he may have had bad teeth, but he didn’t have the hypothyroid problems or the crippling arthritis that Harri did. My mom said he was fine up until his last week, when his liver and kidneys just suddenly gave out.
Harri and Patrick are together again, now, forever. I got these urns made by Alex in Welderland, and they helped me so much. They have hooks to hold their tags, and their names are on the backs. Harri’s has a candleholder, and Patrick’s urn has a crooked smile and stripes on the tail.
I miss those two boys so much…but it was because Harri – my bonded heart cat – left me that I finally got my first Abyssinian.
Originally, there were only going to be two parts to this series…but it turned out, I had so many photos of Harri, I need to break it out into two parts. So now, instead of being part two of two, this is part two of three.
Harri (Harakka Talonväkiliäinen) was my first cat as an adult. I was 26, and finished with university and in an apartment that could support a cat. He was actually my birthday present, but I didn’t get him until 20 June. I was active in the Society for Creative Anachronism at that time, and I actually picked Harri up on the way to June Crown. He spent the weekend camping and it wasn’t until four days later that he finally got to his new home. I was actually his second person. We got him from a man who’d had him two weeks. He’d gotten Harri from the son of the breeder, who lived “in Redding…or Red Bluff. One of those” and hadn’t paid extra to get his papers. I asked why he was getting rid of him and the man told me, “Well, he cries all the time. And I have white carpets, so I can’t leave him alone in the house while I’m at work. I have to keep him in the garage. Well…duh, he’s a Siamese kitten, that’s what they do! I paid the man $100 and took “Siamy” off to the event.
To say he loved the SCA would be an understatement.
He embraced it.
He was squired to a knight, Count Sir Brion Thornbird at his second event. Sir Brion later said that Harri was his most active squire.
Harri fit right in, drinking from tankards (in fact, throughout Harri’s life, he wouldn’t drink water from bowls; he had to have his water in a cup. People don’t drink from bowls, so neither would he)…
…hanging out in the Royal Pavillion impressing the ladies…
…and just generally being the mascot of the West Kingdom for a couple of years. I never left him home alone, so he went to every event that I did.
He even had his own little pavilion.
After a while, though, he outgrew it, and that style of pavilion didn’t really fit his Viking persona, so…
…he upgraded to a genuine Viking A-Frame. He also had a miniature rope bed with a futon mattress, a steel raised firepit, and, of course, his own heraldic banner.
Of course, no matter what tent he himself had, he still crashed in my tent, too.
Harri was my best buddy, very much the same way Jacoby is now.
He was even “Best Cat” at my first wedding!
Harri was one of the bravest cats I have ever known. For some reason I never figured out, he hated dogs. He considered them the ultimate evil. He would insert himself physically between me and any dog, and he would attack if the dog came too close. We used to go for walks in Golden Gate Park, and when we’d encounter a dog, I’d tighten Harri’s leash. “Oh, don’t worry,” the dog owner would invariably say. “He likes cats!” “That’s great,” I’d respond. “HE hates dogs.”
Harri was a great cat. He and Sgt. Pepper actually met once (the crossover between my childhood cats and my adult cats) and I know I have those photos, but I haven’t been able to locate them yet. He did have a lot of energy and, as an only cat, he used to stage running attacks on my ankles. This started to get a bit painful, so when he was three, I adopted a friend for him.
At the time, I was working for a weekly newspaper taking classified ads over the phone. I happened to take a call from a man who needed to rehome a redpoint Siamese cat because his son was suddenly allergic. We got to talking and…well, let’s just say that ad never made it into the newspaper. Sigrid was six years old, a retired CFA Grand Champion. I can’t remember the cattery name but her call name was Sugar…which I promptly changed to Sigrid.
Harri loved her right from the start. She was such a wonderful, beautiful cat…and I have so few photos of her.
The SFSPCA would have photos with Santa every Christmas. These are some of the only photos I have left of her now.
I had Harri and Sigrid together for three years, during which time I moved from Chico to Sacramento to San Francisco. But then Harri was still an active 6 year old who weighed 12 lbs, and Sigrid was an elderly 9 year old who weighed 8 lbs. It was clear that Harri needed a more energetic pal to roughhouse with. And that’s when I adopted Patrick.
More about Harri and Patrick next week.
I was going through some old photos the other day and realised I’ve never shared these photos of the cats who came before Jacoby, Angel, Kylie and Tessie. Of course, there were many many more than just these whose photos you see below…these are just the only ones that I have in jpeg form. I’m sure my mom has a huge box full of all the photos I took of all the cats we had when I was a kid, along with all their negatives (remember those)? I’m just not sure where they are. I’ve asked her to look for them, though. There’s another pile of photos in storage somewhere in Atlanta…and I’m sure a lot more are just gone.
But in the meantime…
This is me with Baby Puss, my first cat. We had her mother, too, and somewhere there is a photo of me around the age of 2 with a box full of kittens, one of which is Baby Puss. She was named after the Flinstones’ cat, of course. This was taken when I was 7, so Baby Puss must have been 5.
I drew these pictures of Baby Puss when I was 3 years old. The first word I could write was…you guessed it: Cat!
Baby Puss photobombs a picture of my sister, my mom and me in matching dresses. These were made for my aunt’s 25th wedding anniversary party in Edmonton, so I was 6. We also had a solid black tomcat named Bagheera but I think he wasn’t neutered and he wasn’t very friendly. And yes, I’ve pretty much always had the same short haircut.
I made a little book about Baby Puss when I was in Grade One.
Later on, when I was 8, I got my own kitten who I named Crystal. She was all black, too. This is a drawing I did of her with my parents. Interestingly, they got divorced about a year later. I wonder if I sensed it coming and was trying to ward it off with a drawing?
Then there were some cats in between…Morris (red tabby) and Sam (Crystal’s son, a solid blue), Rossi (a part Abyssinian who looked like a silver Egyptian Mau), Billie and Pezza (both black and white shorthairs) and Shane (another black shorthair who just showed up in our backyard the same day we’d started reading the book in school and he was a dark mysterious stranger who just appeared one day. We never knew how old he was, and he died of Feline Leukaemia). I know there are photos of these cats…I just don’t know where any of them are.
Rossi was an awesome cat whose mother was half Abyssinian. He was leash trained and smart…and he died tragically when he was only 10 months old. He got out of my dad’s house and was hit by a car. I know I have photos of him somehwere, but I can’t seem to locate them. But I also used his name when I drew editorial cartoons when I was in high school, and added him in the corner as a commentator (imitating Pat Oliphant).
One side note…I thought splitting California into two states was a good idea when I was 15 and I still think it’s a good idea…
I did find this one, very overexposed photo of me with Billie (both Billie and Rossi were named after characters on Lou Grant). I was able to fix it up quite a bit in Photoshop…couldn’t do anything about those glasses, that hair, or those legs, though. This would have been late 1980 or early 1981. You can see why I wanted contact lenses so badly.
This is Sgt. Pepper. He followed me home in 1981 when he was a kitten and I was 16.
Pepper was my second cat to walk on a leash (Rossi was the first).
He would also follow me without a leash. One day he was following me (which I didn’t know) and he was hit by a car which then took off when it saw me. It was a summer afternoon and Happy Days was on. I rushed home with him and we took him to the vet – he was remarkably unhurt apart from a broken leg. My mom did not allow indoor cats then but he was allowed to stay inside while he recovered. He slept in my bed, of course. That was the best time ever.
When I went to college, Pepper came along with me and lived indoors finally – but he hated it. He was an outdoor cat at heart.
Which is not to say that he didn’t like his humans.
He was a very social and helpful cat.
You can see Pepper helping my dad here. I don’t know why he had a hammer when he was working on his bicycle…
Despite being a mostly outdoor cat, Pepper was my first CFA show cat to ever get a Best Cat award (which you can see on the side of his cage in this photo). I had shown Billie and Pezza as Household Pets once or twice,but they didn’t like showing and they didn’t do well. Pepper was a natural.
My mom even made me and my sister our own show curtains! My sister showed her boy Paul (McCartney the Second), a brown mackerel tabby.
I also had Lovely Rita, a blue tabby point with white whose mother was a Himalayan that belonged to a friend of mine. She was born in 1982. She was a very pretty cat…but she was not the brightest cat I’ve ever known.
She was super sweet, though. I entered her in a couple of cat shows as a HHP, too. My sister also had a girl cat we called Berry (short for Strawberry Fields), a silver ticked tabby and white girl who looked a bit like an Aby. I can’t find any photos of them, though…but I took a lot of photos of them throughout high school. All of them lived to be 13 or 14; Berry I think was the youngest, passing away at 11.
Next week…Harri the Siamese and his friends, seen here as a kitten in a rare photo of my dad’s Scottish Fold, Oliver Roundhead.
Valentine’s Day always reminds me of Gun-Hee.
These photos are from Gun-Hee’s last Valentine’s. I got some carnations and brought them home to see what Gun-Hee would do with them.
He and Patrick examined them closely.
Then, Gun-Hee gave some of the flowers to Tessie! Awww…
At the Westchester show, it was my pleasure to be benched next to Joe and Marvie and their Aby QGC, RW Odakota Fearghus of Majorus (Gus, for short) and their fawn Somali Majorus Conneach (Max, I think he was called for short).
Max is only just a year old (born 28 October 2012*) and he’s still in the Novice class, but he has a very mature personality.
In fact, Joe says he may have a future as a therapy cat! I can see it. Max is a wonderful guy who loves to walk on his leash and meet people.
He spent a lot of the weekend on the floor, playing with the spectators.
I don’t think I’d ever seen a fawn Somali in person before I met him…isn’t he handsome?
But the funniest thing was when we were packing up on Sunday afternoon. Joe and Marvie’s grandkids were pushing a little flat cart, and Max and Gus went along for the ride!
It reminded me so much of Jacoby riding the cart in our building down to the first floor. I guess cart riding is another Aby/Somali trait. Gus is actually an Aby variant; his mother, Thecatgarden Lildreamer of Odakota is a Somali).
I thought Gus looked more like a Somali than an Aby when I first saw him; he reminded me a bit of my Siamese Patrick, whose mother was a Balinese. Although he was a TICA-registered Chocolate Tabby Point Siamese, he had softer, silkier fur than a “normal” Siamese.
Max was much more into the riding than Gus was. It was pretty fun to watch them. Good to know I’m not the only one who has a silly cat!
*Speaking of Patrick, he and Max share the same birthday! Patrick (aka Sugar Hill Twinkletoes) was born 28 October 1994 and lived to the grand old age of 16.
Gun-Hee only had one Thanksgiving with us.
Sadly, we had to travel on his only Thanksgiving, so he didn’t even get to experience the glory and the wonder that is a Thanksgiving turkey.
He got to eat at the cats’ table (aka the floor) and share with his adopted brother Patrick and his sisters Tessie and Kylie.
He still got his turkey, though. I cooked one for Christmas dinner that year.
Today is the day Gun-Hee lost his short but fierce battle against FIP.
There is hope, however: Just last week, Cornell announced a breakthrough in the search for the mutation that turns the benign feline enteric coronavirus (FECV) into the fatal FIP virus. Let’s all keep our fingers and toes crossed that this will lead to some sort of a cure for this evil disease.
I can’t think about Christmas without thinking about Gun-Hee.
He was my Christmas kitten. We picked him up from Sherry on December 15. By December 16, he was a member of the family.
He fit right in with Patrick, Tessie and Kylie.
But the thing I remember most about Gun-Hee and Christmas is his climbing the tree.
Such an epic accomplishment for such a little kitten!
That was a 7-foot tree, and he went right up to the top of it. Several times. We’d get him down and he’d zoom right back up.
He was so proud of himself.
He was so little, too! He was nearly the same size as his little Balinese cuddle-buddy!
Gun-Hee was truly the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.
A cat photo community I’m a member of runs a weekly theme contest. This week, the theme was “Lovey-Dovey Cats,” and I entered this photo of Patrick and Gun-Hee:
Trick and Gun-Hee were both born in the Year of the Dog, and as such were 12 years apart in age (in this photo, Trick is 12 and Gun-Hee is 4 months). Gun-Hee adored Patrick from the start (I’ve always noticed an unlikely bond between my cats born in the same Chinese zodiac year; Harri and Tessie were both born in Goat years and were also friends right from the start despite their age difference). Patrick, who always preferred boycats to females, grew fonder of Gun-Hee than he ever was of Tessie and Kylie, despite knowing them longer.
These two were taken the day after we brought Gun-Hee home! Already Gun-Hee was trying to cuddle with Patrick…although Patrick wasn’t really sure about the newcomer yet.
They were such an unlikely pair!
As I posted back in July, Angel’s teeth are not so great. I’m sure some of this is genetic, since Abys are especially prone to dental disease. Today was the day she went to the vet to get her teeth cleaned and the two with Oral Resorptive Lesions extracted.
I really do love my vet’s devotion to dental care. She gave me a little folder with these photos of Angel’s mouth while she was under anaesthetic, before and after the cleaning and having her teeth pulled.
But that’s not all she gave me…
…I was also given a CD with Angel’s dental X-rays on them. Really interesting. You can see that Angel has no incisors left, but I wonder if she also has some bone loss on the sockets?
I don’t think the tooth with the spot on it is one that was removed. If that spot is what I think it is, it’ll probably be our next project.
This is her upper jaw, showing her skull and one remaining little incisor.
Looks like she has a chipped canine tooth, too. I hope that doesn’t cause her any problems in the future.
She’s only 4 years old, so it’s a little distressing that she’s already needing this much oral intervention. I suspect that even if I could brush her teeth, it wouldn’t make a lot of difference. Some cats are just genetically cursed to have bad teeth. I had two Siamese, three years apart in age, who were not related but who, as long as I owned them, ate the exact same food. One lived to be 15 and the other 16. Harri, the 15 year old, didn’t need to have his teeth cleaned by the vet until his 15th birthday. Patrick, who lived to be 16, started needing dental work when he was 5 or 6, and by the time he was 10, he’d had most of his teeth taken out.
And, to add insult to medically-sanctioned injury, they shaved her arm to put in an IV.
She’s doing well, though, and eating like nothing happened to her at all. And she has some teeth to leave under that pillow for the tooth fairy!
Yesterday’s Wordless Wednesday post showed Jacoby with the urns of Harri and Patrick, my two Siamese. When Harri died in 2006, I had a custom cremation urn made for him by Alex in Welderland, so when Patrick died last November, I knew he needed one, too. It came last week, and I had to photograph the two urns together.
And Jake had to help me! Harri was a sealpoint Siamese, and his urn is the dark brown one; Patrick was a chocolate tabbypoint Siamese, so I had his urn made in a silver colour. You can see his crooked smile, caused by having about half his teeth extracted by the vet. The tail also has Trick’s tabby stripes on it, which you can see in the photo below. Alex is a joy to work with…if you ever need an urn for a dearly departed kitty, she’ll make it easier for you to deal with.
Here’s their backs…You’ll notice that Jake is also showing us his backside.
Jake was, admittedly, less than helpful at some points during the photo shoot.
This is why I don’t use real tealight candles in Harri’s urn.
The Daily Abyssinian...and Singapura 