Our Favorite Cat

  Forty-seven years ago, when was at a family party hosted by my sister's boyfriend Randy, a kitten wandered in and jumped on my lap. I was married at the time and my husband walked over and said, "No." I hadn't said a word. An hour later, he came back and said, "Ok, we can try it for week."
 I hadn't said anything about bringing this kitten home, but apparently my face did. That black cat lasted much longer than my marriage. His name was Dominic Cosmo Davis, but we just called him Cosmo or Cos. My husband had teased me about wanting to use that name for our future son, so I figured I'd give it to the cat so I wouldn't have to name a baby Dominic.
 Over the last 47 years, I had multiple cats, and when one died, my house still included at least one other, so I was never without a kitty...until last night.
 When Matthew and I met, we each had a cat--Koshka was his and Carrie (named for my grandmother since I knew I'd never have a human daughter). They tolerated each other. After Koshka died, we decided we wanted to replace her with 2 kittens. Through a series of events, I heard that the manager of the local dumps had just found 2 black 8-day old kittens in a debris box, and his girlfriend was hand-feeding and caring for them. We walked over to see them and I fell in love. I went back every week to see their growth and when they were old enough for me to carry them home in my pockets, they became ours. Their rescuers last names were Farwell and Elliott, so that's what we named them.

  Matthew had his heart set on getting another tri-colored cat, and around the time our black kitties were a few weeks from adoption, he found a beautiful kitten being fostered on the coast. We decided 3 kittens would be a nice addition--oh, but we still did have Carrie, so that made 4 cats at once. She didn't like anyone but me, so she pretty much stayed in my office hanging out. She got sick within the first year we had the kittens, so we were left with just the 3 pretty quickly.

 We named the fancy-colored cat Fancy--it fit. Unfortunately for Matthew, she took to me in the same way Carrie had, and she rarely came near him or let him or anyone else pet her.
 As for the boys, they loved everyone! Being hand-raised, they were people friendly cats who wanted attention and affection.

  We had them a couple of years when Elliott started having trouble with being the least dominant of the 3. Farwell brought home so many gophers that our neighbors asked if they could hire him. Fancy could also hunt, but was happy getting my attention most of the time and sharing the top spot with Farwell. But Elliott had issues. First, we noticed toys appearing in our house that didn't belong to us, such as small balls and a child's stuffed animal. We didn't know how they got there or who brought them in, but one day I spied Elliott marching down the sidewalk carrying something in his mouth. Aha...he'd been sneaking into our neighbor's open garage and taking their kids' old toys. I bundled up what I had and knocked on their door. Honestly, when I explained about my cat, she looked skeptical. Did she think I was stealing from her? I returned everything and she decided to keep their garage door closed.
 We think his thievery was the result of not being able to hunt like Farwell and his need to bring something home for us.
 We could have handled that without a problem, but then he started spraying in the house. He hit everything from CD's in the living room to the bags of yarn in my studio. Fortunately the yarn was in plastic or I might have killed him myself.
 For at least a year, we tried everything the vet suggested, including an anti-anxiety pill, but nothing worked. She finally suggested he needed to be indoors in a home as the only cat. By then, we had realized he was mostly blind in one eye and had some possible neurological problems--but he was the sweetest and most loving cat. We took him to the SPCA and told them he needed a special family. A friend worked there, and she made sure he was taken care of and sent to a good home.
 We were a 2-cat household for many years after that. Fancy died from a blood clot at 15. She remained my cat till the end.
 Farwell was seriously the best cat we ever had. Why? Because I could toss him over my shoulder and walk around with him purring in my ear. Because when anyone sat on the couch, they were open territory for a lap cat.

 Because he loved being the center of attention with any amount of people. He would lie in the middle of my jewelry display during Open Studios and customers would have to work around him if they wanted to see something. Many times I had to say, "No, he isn't for sale." 

 Because if I had a meeting here with 30-40 people, he would wander in, find a lap, and purr. When he was still a kitten, I had a group here knitting chemo caps, and Farwell would join the women on the couch, lie on their yarn, and sleep. Everyone loved him, so they worked around him. To the very end, I could knit with him on my lap, and he wouldn't touch the yarn.

Most cats don't tolerate toddlers well, but Farwell loved our neighborhood kids. He had a special bond with Will, who, at 2, started helping his parents feed Farwell when we were traveling. I think Farwell was one of his first words. They had their own routine--Will would hand his parent the food dish, then knew exactly where to put it when it was filled. Whenever Will came over, he told me Far was hungry--just so he could grab that bowl and make Far happy.

Farwell loved enclosed spaces--boxes were his favorite and wasn't he lucky I buy from Amazon almost weekly. He tried every box that came in no matter the size. He climbed on top of clean clothes too.

We had Farwell for almost all his 17 years and 4 months. His presence will be sorely missed. He remains our sweetest boy and best cat ever.