~ Ellen Perry Berkeley
That statement was never truer when applied to my childhood feline, W.C. Which stood for “White Cat.” Pretty original, huh? Although “water closet” might have been more apt...

Guess how long that lasted?
(Sidebar: I got Hamlet as a gift for my fifth birthday. The fact that a kindergartener named her doggie after a Shakespearean tragic hero should give you an indication as to what kind of a weird kid I was. Need I remind you about my 10-year-old affection for Dr. Henry Kissinger?)
Anyhoo.
My soft-hearted mama fell hook, line and sinker for Dub’s charm and after one can of tuna consumed, he was ours. Whether we wanted him or not. Which we did.
And so he grew, in size and in personality. And antics. He was soon legendary around the ‘hood. Not in an entirely favorable way, either.

Thank goodness.
As might be expected for a big old crabby, ornery tomcat with a penchant for fighting, Dub was a regular at the vet's office. Torn ears, scrapes, missing fur -- he had it all. (If this how he came out after a scuffle, I couldn't help but wonder what the other guys looked like...)
The most unique trip we took to the vet happened one sunny Saturday morning. The family was outside -- Daddy doing yard work, me pulling weeds against my will (damn chores for allowance policy), my brother doing something unconstructive. All at once, up the driveway comes W.C.
Tail bloody. And suspiciously shorter.
Somewhere, somehow, he'd managed to come home with about 2-1/2 inches less of tail than when he left. And he wasn't talking.

I always figured that there was some poor old lady who got a kitty surprise when she opened up her car door (Dub was famous for never meeting an open window he wasn't interested in) and in the ensuing chaos, slammed the door on his tail.
He actually was no worse for wear. Didn't slow him down one iota and probably made him that much meaner.
It was also not unusual for Dub to pay calls on the neighbors, either. The guy next door did a classic double-take the morning he was coming down the stairs of his home, passing W.C., who was on his way up -- obviously having made the most of an open window somewhere in that house.
And then there was the time he jumped into the trunk of a neighbor's car and ran all her errands with her...
Some people say that cats are sneaky, evil, and cruel. True, and they have many other fine qualities as well.
~ Missy Dizick
Dub, as you might imagine, was infamous at the vet's office. We would board him there while we were away on family vacations, and without fail, at least once a visit, he would pick the lock of his cage, get out and strut around through the doggie area, subsequently riling up every canine in the joint.

I could go on and on. After 20 years, people still ask my parents, with a bit of fear in their voices, if "that cat is still dead."
In his later years, he drooled a lot (poor baby) and ended up with this weird snagglepuss thing going on. He was, in fact, a real life Bill the Cat. And his zest for life morphed into a love of napping. As happens to any of us when we age.
The whole family, men included, shed many, many tears when we had to put him to sleep. It happened two days before Thanksgiving -- boy, that was a rough holiday, as Dub would always have some turkey with us. We still miss him and I always have a silent gobble gobble toast in his honor.
Although the standing joke in the family is that good old Dub is not spending eternity in Pet Heaven...
One cat just leads to another.
~ Ernest Hemingway
4 comments:
Wow, that's some cat. That is an incredible story. I think it's pretty awesome.
Thanks for an enjoyable story, that has to be one of the most memorable cats I've heard of.
Awww. Awesome kitty!
My cousin had a cat similar - we put her to sleep last year. She had feline cancer. She was put to rest at home by a very nice vet. Just before he injected her - she bit him. Resulting in 7 stitches. Even in her last breathe she was the bitch we all knew and loved ;)
And that's why I love cats...
Great recollection.
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