He wasn't our mom's first cat, but in many ways he was the cat who started it all.
Mom had adopted her first cat and soul mate Morgan from the Humane Society. Nimue soon followed, being adopted from an ad in the newspaper. All was happy and well for many years, until the summer of 1985.
The front door was open and the screen door closed. There he was. Paws on the door, looking in. Mom had never adopted a stray before. Mom and dad didn't know if he belonged to someone else in the neighborhood. He wasn't um...uh...fixed. They asked around and found that he'd been hanging out for quite sometime but no one claimed him. Mom and dad got him fixed...and pretty soon he moved in for good. He got a collar and tag. He was SO PROUD of his collar and tag. It meant so much to him.
He was something. Larger than life. Turns out every cat, dog, possum, raccoon in the neighborhood knew him. And liked him. Mom and dad finally figured that he was President of the Local Homeless Cat Union. He regularly held meetings and invited non-cats to attend. Just to keep the neighborhood peace.
He loved milk and would show up when families in the neighborhood had their morning cereal. When he caught mice he'd always give parts to mom and dad...sometimes exactly half a mouse. Sometimes only the heart.
He loved to ride shoulders, but only on the left side.
After 5 amazing years in our family, he developed severe kidney disease. He passed away in June of 1990.
Ever since then, there has been a parade of strays who have been adopted by my family. For each one the question is the same.
Did Roger send you?