David and Poop

Milu the Cat From Milan

Milu was a cat I befriended on a visit to Milan, Italy. He was used to many strangers coming to stay and was very cautious at first until he realized that I wanted to play with him. His days seemed to be full of gazing out the rooftop apartment at the many swallows that would sweep along the rooftops. According to his owner, he actually caught one of them, which was a high point for him, and not so much for the swallow. He loved the toy I gave him while I stayed there and slept on my bed after the first night. His owner had to leave Italy and returned him to his original family where he could be with his siblings and his mother and live life in the country. I’ll never forget his elegance and his curiosity, and the sound of his purr.

Molly and Peep

Molly is our black furry cat and is actually a male despite the name. We thought he was a girl at first but by the time we found out differently, the name had stuck. We adopted him and his sibling Piper from a friend who had taken them in but couldn't keep them along with her own two cats. This was just after we moved into our condo.

So we had these two frisky kittens in our new home as our third and fourth cats and they loved having such space for their playground. Molly soon became our morning wake-up cat -- the cat who climbs into the bed the first thing in the morning for strokes, petting and general attention. His fur is soft, thick and luxurious, and it didn't take much to get him purring! 

When we adoped our fifth cat, there was some antagonism from Molly. He behaved like the displaced middle brother who was no longer the center of attention, chasing and swatting at our newest adoptee. We ascribed it to an almost-human jealousy and hoped it would pass.

But it didn't, and we had to maintain peace in the house, so we installed a pet gate. He squeezed through the bars, so we blocked the gaps. He jumped over it instead, so we put in a taller gate. After he learned to scaled that one (which took all of ten minutes), we finally had to gate the entire doorway to keep those two cats apart. It was an amazing show of determination as Molly overcame each challenge! 

I miss the morning visits from Molly and I often think that his jealousy proves that cats feel human emotions like love just as strongly as we do.

 

Peep the Maine Coon

Peep is our Maine Coon. She is a nine-year-old female with soft gray and brown fur. We adopted her from one of the big-box pet stores after my wife saw her while shopping for Christmas gifts for our other four cats. Peep just looked so sad and lonely in the store cage. Her first weeks at our house showed how bashful and skittish that experience had made her--she would run for the nearest closet and hide from the world at every chance she got. 

We let her be and gave her love and comfort. Gradually she warmed to her new home. She made a habit of sleeping between our pillows on the bed, and later began to venture out into the living room to hang out with the whole gang.

It didn't help to be the only girl-cat in house full of boys. Their curiosity and attention led to occasional hissing and chasing, and we ended up installing a gate to protect her. Lately, we even find her scratching at it when she wants social time. And when she gets tired, she jumps on to the couch, rests her head on my leg and falls asleep.

She even developed a close bond with our tabby (who recently passed away) and engaged in some mutual grooming sessions! They just loved to lie and sleep next to each other. And that is the thing Peep taught me about love: after receiving so much of our love, she was able to pass it on.

D. Roberts

Jesse, An Unforgettable Cat

As I get ready for my trip to Europe, I think how Jesse would climb into my suitcase when I was getting ready for a trip. He would lumber over and climb in and look at me. He wanted me to take me with him.

Jesse was so present. Always. He was never checking his cell phone, ipad, he was never looking away as if thinking of someone or something else. He was steady and only vocal with rich, loud purrs, which started to be less frequent as his heart disease progressed.

I used to talk about him as a feline tractor, his purrs were so loud.

His big beautiful heart just grew to be too big for his body.

He didn’t need witty repartee or active conversation. He seemed fairly content to roll on his back and hold my smelly socks in his paws like a river otter does with a mussel. He came to met me at the door without fail until he could no longer walk without too much pain or exertion.

Jesse loved to eat. Until a year ago he finished every bit of his food as if it was his last meal. He relished it licking his lips and sometime grunting with sheer pleasure. When I let him outside in the yard, he would amble towards the catmint and lie on top of the tender green leaves as if smothering them with his vast orange and white body was somehow symbiotically important. The catmint is flourishing now, so it must have been true. Jesse had very clear expressions and when he really wanted something he could look at me with eyes that seemed so wide that they reminded me of the Disney cartoon eyes jiggling with intention.

Sometimes Jesse would climb his staircase to sit on my lap on the couch and would squeeze my finger with his paw. I would squeeze back and he would squeeze me back again. He didnt’ care how I looked. He loved me no matter what, when I was sick, coughing, when I was lonely and feeling boring, when I was rushing and stressed, and when I came back from a trip. He never made me feel bad for leaving him.

In fact, he welcomed me home and then wanted to lie on my shoes.

He loved his catnip rainbow with an intensity only imaginable for a catnip addict.

He was happy riding in the car, showing great interest in the surroundings and looking calmly out the window.

As a tag team, he and George had it down. George would go outside and bring in the mouse and Jesse would execute it quickly, often scuttling across the floor much faster than seemed possible for his weight.

When I gave him baby food on my finger he would lick it with immeasurable gentleness.

He was always loving rolling from one side to the next and since he could not groom himself below the chest, would start rapidly licking his paw when I would clean him. When I brushed him and voluminous fur would come off in the brush, he would dig into the fur and try to eat it as if it were essential.

He snored.

He purred.

He was so loving.

And so loved.

Miranda Loud

June10, 2013