The day Johnny died, I saw on Facebook a picture of a dog with a caption that said something like: “When I die, please don’t say ‘I’ll never have another dog.’ Honour my life by saving another.” Now, replace “dog” with “cat”, and you have a principle we’ve lived by for quite some years already. So a couple of weeks ago, we betook ourselves to the SPCA, and came home with – drumroll please – LOUIS!
Ain’t he adorable? Of course he is; he’s a kitten – they’re the very definition of cuteness. And this one certainly lives up to the expectations placed on him.
His name was suggested by the Youngest Offspring, who coughed up the cash for the “adoption fee” (which is really the cost of having the critter neutered). He thought it would be fun to name the cat after a Canadian historical figure, and the first one that sprang to mind was Louis Riel (if you don’t know who that is, you can educate yourself here). Also, we have a long-standing custom of naming our cats after royalty, and there’s certainly plenty of King Louises to choose from. My personal favourite is Louis XIV, because, bombastic and megalomaniac, which just seems to suit a small, fuzzy ginger kitten.
So a couple of days ago we took Louis (the kitten, not the king) to the vet to, umm, be turned into an It (is he a eunucat now?). When we picked him up, the vet said we should try to keep him (it) quiet for about a week, but she said it with a chuckle – she’s acquainted with kittens, after all. And sure enough, Louis didn’t get the memo – within minutes of bringing him home, he was doing his psycho-kitten act, racing around, jumping on and off furniture, attacking anything that moves or doesn’t…
He’s wormed his way into our hearts quite thoroughly, this little guy. The whole family loves him – well, the whole family with the exception of Cleo, our feline lady, whose black aristocratic nose has once again been put out of joint by the presence of a little pest who keeps trying to attack her and won’t be deterred by hisses. Too-bad-so-sad for her; Louis is here to stay.
So there you have it: Life, the Universe, and Louis. Now where did the critter get to again?
Our darling Johnny, Tri-Pawed, Long John Charcoal, Twitticus, Fuzzy, Silly-Cat died last night. He got sick sometime Sunday night, just kept getting worse and worse. We took him to the vet, who suspected FIP (a fatal cat virus) and did blood tests to that effect; but it turned out not to be that, so today she was going to do an ultrasound to see what it might be. But he just quietly slipped away sometime in the night.
