When we moved here to Coombsville Road, we had two cats -- Tobey (the wonder cat and the best all around cat EVER) and Sophie (who I got from my friend Barbara shortly after I moved to Napa). Then we got Dixie, a tabby point Himalayan, and Christmas of '96, when Rod wanted a Harley for Christmas, he got a black and white tuxedo kitten named Harley. All of those first cats are gone now, beginning with Dixie, and ending with Harley only 3 years ago. Rodney still misses Harley (I do too) and I still miss Tobey who had cancer of the mouth and died in 2002. When I had my Jaguar, our license plate read "R5CATS" in honor of the 4 cats + the Jag.
HARLEY BEAR
When Tobey passed, that's when I think our cat fancy turned to cat obsession, starting with two cats to replace one lost -- Mamie, a tuxedo and Ike, a burmese-looking semi feral that we had to trap. Gradually, more cats were added either on purpose, or because they just showed up here -- our "porch cats" that we have fed, loved, and taken to the vet when needed. So here are the current Cats of Coombsville Road:
MAMIE: Currently the oldest Coombsville cat, at about 10 years old, she is now Rod's office cat (one of two). Mamie is a little fatty short hair tuxedo who likes to sit on Rod's lap when he is working at the computer. She is a talker, and a lazy one! Here she is on the wicker settee on the porch of Rod's shop.
IKE: We trapped Ike when he was a tiny kitten in the yard of a friend of Rod's mom and dad. He was a feral kitty who lived under our sofa until he got too big to do so, then moved to BEHIND the sofa. When he was old enough to be fixed, (and all of our cats are, by the way), Rod called me at work to tell me that he had gotten Ike to the vet and was now going to the Emergency Room. When I got home, I found the sofa upended, and the bed in Amy's room completely torn apart. And Rod covered with bloody scratches from fingers to elbows. That was the first and only time IKE has been to the vet. He slipped out of the house one day while we were preparing for a weekend trip, and we thought he was gone for good. But then about 3 weeks later we spotted him peeking out from under the deck. He has stayed around all this time and he has a bed on the front deck. He has always been our most shy, most timid cat, and will only allow petting if we are feeding him and he is really hungry. Ike's been around as long as Mamie -- 10 years or so.
MR. IKE
Next in succession is SAM. We got Sam and his brother TJ after Tobey passed away (2002), but unfortunately TJ got his tail caught in something and damaged the nerves at the base of his spine, which meant he couldn't pee or poop on his own. We had to put him down at only 3 years of age. But his brother Sam has stayed around, and became a porch cat instead of an indoor cat when new kitten Daisy came along. Sam is a big fat Teddy Bear who will bully the other cats if they get in his way. But He LOVES to be petted and have his tummy rubbed. Anyone on the porch will get a visit from Sam. When I am reading the paper at the table, he will plop down right in the middle of the comics for a tickle under the chin or a satisfying tummy rub. The way he sometimes splays out with his back feet straight out in front of him has earned him the nickname "Porno Cat".
SAM - 'SAMARAMA'
I got DAISY when I went to the Benicia Peddler's Fair looking for antiques, but instead came home with this cross eyed little tabby point Himalayan that was a twin for our cat Dixie who had dies a couple of years before. The shelter had named her "Sybil" because they said she had a split personality. Loving and purring one minute and turning into a slasher the next. Well, I couldn't believe that this tiny fluffball could be so evil, so she came home with me. But, alas, the predictions turned out to be true. You can pet her and she will love it until she doesn't any more. Daisy has long fluffy fur but does not like to be brushed, so keeping her groomed is a constant struggle. Recently, she had a hematoma on her ear that was fixed by the Vet, so now she has a "cauliflower ear". Goofy as she is, we love our Daisy.
Next in succession is CHLOE. Rod's Dad and Mom live up on Atlas Peak Road, and a feral cat showed up and had kittens under their gazebo. Mom was a small calico, and the kittens were a mix of colors, but one kitten was an adorable seal point Himalayan. As we were trapping the cats to get them fixed for TNR (trap, neuter, release), we got Chloe on her own. When I brought her back from the vet, I put her in the back bedroom with her own food, water, and kitty box, and opened the carrier door. I petted her and talked to her -- she was still groggy from the anesthesia. When Rod got home later that day, we went in to say hi and let her out of the carrier. Fully recovered from the anesthesia, she exploded out of that carrier and clawed Rod so bad she lost a claw!!!! We were terrified that she had ripped out her stitches, but it seemed not so. Although she came out at night to eat and use the litter box, for the next three months or so, she hid under the bed and would not come out when we went in there. Every day, Rod went in and laid on his stomach at the edge of the bed and talked to her and offered treats. We finally opened the bedroom door and she came out, only to streak up to the attic, which has been her home ever since. Although she has gotten bolder over the past four years in her forays around the house, and loves the other cats (wanting to play with them), the only human who can capture her heart is Rod. And she is completely shameless with him -- rubbing all over him, Looking at him with adoring eyes, climbing up his leg. But even Rod can't brush her -- even with the "Love Glove" he bought especially for Chloe. So the cat hair in the house is prodigious since Chloe never goes outdoors. Rod is truly "the Cat Whisperer" (with a T shirt to proclaim it) beause he can make any cat, even the wild and feral Chloe, butter in his hands.
CHLOE
Then comes Bailey. Still looking for a cat with Tobey's charm and sweet disposition, we found Bailey on Craigslist and drove all the way to Alameda to BUY him (yes, the only cat we have actually bought -- not counting adoption fees from a rescue organization). He was just a tiny kitten when we brought him home five years ago.
BABY BAILEY
Bailey is quite the character. He loves to sleep on top of the kitchen cabinets where it is nice and warm
And when he comes to greet you, he throws himself down on the ground and rolls all around. He is a good hunter, and last year he brought me a mole for my birthday that was as big around as my hand, with teeth as long as my little fingernail. He will sit by a haystack all day waiting for the mice to come out. That's usually where he is when Rod goes out to round up the cats for the night. When he was about a year old, he scared the hell out of us when he fell off of "his " chair and couldn't stand up. His eyes were jerking back and forth and he began to howl. Since it was after 9 pm, we rushed him off the the vet clinic in Cordelia (a 20 minute drive) and they ran all kinds of tests. They couldn't find anything. The next day he spent another day with our vet for more tests -- nothing. He finally came out of it and BOY was he glad to see us! We never did figure out just what had happened to cause that seizure of such long duration. For some time after, Bailey was a little clumsy and would sometimes miss when he jumped up onto something. The seizures have never happened again.
Another favorite spot of Bailey's is on Rod's knee in the evening when we watch TV. Check the expression.
Then there is our former foster cat, Chessie. Mourning the death from lymphoma of our adopted 14 year old Himalayan cat, Kiko, Rodney swore to me -- "NO MORE CATS!!!" So who called me in to his office to look at something he found on Craigslist while looking at -- you guessed it -- CATS but Rod? Here was this adorable Maine Coon who needed a temporary home while his owner went to Haiti to help build an run a school. Her brother, who had first told her he would keep the cat, decided at the alst minute that he couldn't do it. We would only have him for a year, maybe two, and then could give him back. Rod thought this might be the perfect solution (ha ha ha). Better yet, he was in Concord, where I worked. So I told Rod I would go check him out and if he was a nice cat, I would bring him home. When I got to Jaimie's townhouse, almost everything was packed except for a futon in the middle of the room. There on top was Chessie, looking like a little lion. He had a sweet disposition, so I bundled him into his carrier, loaded up his food, dishes, and litterbox, and came on back to Napa. Chessie was at home immediately.
He was two years old -- the same age as Bailey and came when we called him. He was desperate to explore the grewat outdoors and climbed the big old silk tree by the deck with aplomb. Although he was happy to eat dry kibble, he loves tuna, but ONLY if it is FRESH out of the can (no day old tuna for Chessie). A year went by and Jaimie came for a visit. We raised $300 to help her pay for the extra baggage she took back to Haiti with medicines, toys, books and clothes for the children. Chessie found his favorite spot on top of the oak secretary in the dining room. And we loved the weay he did the "Chessie Stretch" with his back legs straight our behind and his front legs pulling forward, not to mention the head bumps that we got when we would reach down to pet him -- head and body rising up on hind legs to meet the palm of any friendly hand around.
When we heard Jaimie was back in the area for her second visit a year later, Rod said "she's NOT getting Chessie back!". But before we could tell her, she said to us -- "You obviously love him very much, and I don't know when I will be back, so I think it is best if you keep him". We were OVERJOYED. So Chessie foster cat became Chessie our very own forever cat.
MONSTER showed up one day out in the back yard, slinking around the old cars. A black and white medium hair guy with a pink nose, he was a young cat -- maybe a year old if that, and although he was friendly to people, he caused havoc with the other cats, chasing Bailey, Chessie, and Daisy and the fights resulted in huge tufts of cat hair all over the yard. I told Rod that we would not be able to keep this monster of a cat unless he could get along with everybody. Rod took him off to the vet to be neutered and for shots, and within two weeks, Monster had turned into a different cat. None of the other cats can play like this one -- he chases a ball with unbridled enthusiasm and just wants to RUN from happiness. But the other cats still don't trust him, and there are occasional mix ups (even though Monster really only wants a little rough house play). Monster and Mamie love each other and sleep together in Rod's lap or in a bed in the office. He comes into the house from time to time as well.
MONSTER STILL A LITTLE BEAT UP
LOS DOS AMIGOS IN THE OFFICE
Finally, there is Morgan, our latest addition. When Stefi and Windy were here in November, Stefi wanted to get presents for the cats, and a new collar for Monster (he has lost four collars with name tags since we have had him), so we went to Petco -- big mistake. They have stacks of cages there with the cats from Whiskers. Tails, and Ferals, which does adoptions on Saturdays. We looked at all the cats and they were all wonderful but this one little Tonkinese who looked so much like Bailey caught my attention. So I called Rod and asked -- "please, please???" Of course the answer was, "what's one more cat?". But I could not get ahold of anyone from Whiskers, Tails and Ferals, so I went home empty handed.
The next day, Rod, Windy, and Stefi went to a Swap Meet in Turlock. I hate (car) swap meets, so I stayed home. But later that morning, I went back down to Petco, and the little Tonkinese kitten was still there. A couple of hours later and $125 poorer, I left with Morgan, who did not make a peep all the way back to the house.
BABY MORGAN
Morgan was a scared little guy, and he hid inside the cubby of our new Ikea headboard. Three or four times a day Rod or I would haul him out (risking a swipe of the claws) to cuddle him and sing to him. After the first couple of days, he did climb into bed with us at night and allow himself to be petted while he burrowed into my neck. Then he would pounce on our feet and bite our toes. He felt safe as long as it was dark. He was maybe 3 months old. We left for Paris in mid December, leaving all of the cats in the care of Kristen, Dennis Forbyn's daughter. When we got back, I could not believe how much Morgan had grown in only 2 weeks! Plus, one of Kristen's friends had managed to lure him out of hiding with treats and gotten him to play with a string toy.
Morgan is now 8 months old, and has yet to go outside. He is still skittery and does not like loud noises or surprises, and does NOT like to be picked up. But he runs into the room when he hears us coming and talks like crazy. He no longer hides, and has made friends with Chloe, and the will chase each other all over the attic for hours. He also will fling himself down on the ground, roll over, and stretch himself out as long as he can for a good pet and a belly rub. At night, he still comes to sleep with us, usually right between us for the best warm spot. He is our organic alarm clock, waking us up every morning by biting our toes.
CHLOE AND MORGAN PLAYING
MORGAN IN THE WINDOW
We do "have" three more cats - Rocky (named for his racoon-like ringed tail) and Casper (named after the friendly ghost because of his pale coloring), our "porch cats" who show up to eat and then may not be seen for days, and Ringo, the cat I got from my friend Vicki for Tony's kids about four years ago because hey always loved to play with ours when they came over. I went all the way to Oakville to get that cat, and paid for his first shots and to have him neutered. About three months later, Tony asked if we could keep Ringo because "our landlord does not allow cats". Of course, this made me furious, because nobody had bothered to check about this before I got the cat and spent all that money. So Tony feeds Ringo, and Ringo stays out by the shop and is kind of wild.
CASPER THE PORCH CAT
This story does not include all of the past cats -- Kiko, Neko, Annie (although I did blog about this old cat), Sophie, and two other porch cats -- Smokey and Marble. Along with Tobey, Dixie, TJ and Harley, they are buried at the edge of the yard, with headstones and lots of fond memories.
Although we spend a fortune on cat food and sometimes vet bills, these guys make us happy, they make us laugh, and we love them all.
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