About 11 years ago, Ryan and I went down to the Peterborough Humane Society and fell in love with a tiny grey and white kitten.
His name at the shelter was Hansel, but that was too sissy. He needed a strong, dignified name. We named him Bacchus, after the Greek god who didn't care what anyone thought of him. It proved to be the perfect name for our first cat.
That first night in my apartment, he came to cuddle in the bed, mewing sweetly. Unfortunately he'd had a fairly spectacular litter box malfunction, so he had his first bath that night too!
It was a sign of things to come.
He quickly grew into a cat with an incredibly strong personality. Bacchus bonded closely with Ryan to the exclusion of all others. It took him about 6 years to accept me, and even then only grudgingly.
But his quirks only added to his charm, and he was loved. Even the most avowed cat-haters in our group of friends respected Bacchus because he didn't put up with crap from anyone.
We always joked that Bacchus spent his free time plotting the destruction of his enemies (which included the dog, the two other cats, me, furniture that had been moved, suitcases, and any other sort of stranger danger). If he only had opposable thumbs, he would have been a true threat to Homeland Security.
But as it was, Bacchus never followed through on his nefarious plans, opting to hiss and hide instead.
Occasionally he would take a swipe at someone, especially at the dog if she'd been pestering Mango. Although he could barely stand his sister, he was always her protector.
When no one else was around to watch him lower himself, Bacchus loved to cuddle in the crook of Ryan's arm and groom his beard for him. In the bathroom, stangely enough, he became a kitten again, looking for affection and cuddles. Outside the bathroom, he was crotchety, cranky and callous. It was like Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde some days.
He loved his water dish. He'd gaze into his reflection and would sometimes tap the side of it to move it to what he deemed better location. This led to many curses in the morning when Ryan or I stepped in a fresh puddle!
He hated the dog, being followed by anyone, and he especially hated closed doors.
But from time to time, he and the other cats called a truce and spent some quality lazy time together.
Last week, he started to cry a lot, which wasn't that strange for him. He was always very vocal about his needs. Unfortunately, he was trying to tell us his kidneys were shutting down. Within three days, he had become a frail, fragile cat. Not our chubby, robust Bacchus.
There was nothing we or the vet could do. We made the difficult decision to end his pain. The sudden loss of his presence is a shock to all of us. It will be a long time before the house feels full again.
We were very lucky to enjoy 11 years of this unique and wacky feline. He is missed.
Bacchus
2000-2011
His name at the shelter was Hansel, but that was too sissy. He needed a strong, dignified name. We named him Bacchus, after the Greek god who didn't care what anyone thought of him. It proved to be the perfect name for our first cat.
That first night in my apartment, he came to cuddle in the bed, mewing sweetly. Unfortunately he'd had a fairly spectacular litter box malfunction, so he had his first bath that night too!It was a sign of things to come.
He quickly grew into a cat with an incredibly strong personality. Bacchus bonded closely with Ryan to the exclusion of all others. It took him about 6 years to accept me, and even then only grudgingly.
But his quirks only added to his charm, and he was loved. Even the most avowed cat-haters in our group of friends respected Bacchus because he didn't put up with crap from anyone.
We always joked that Bacchus spent his free time plotting the destruction of his enemies (which included the dog, the two other cats, me, furniture that had been moved, suitcases, and any other sort of stranger danger). If he only had opposable thumbs, he would have been a true threat to Homeland Security.
But as it was, Bacchus never followed through on his nefarious plans, opting to hiss and hide instead.
Occasionally he would take a swipe at someone, especially at the dog if she'd been pestering Mango. Although he could barely stand his sister, he was always her protector.
When no one else was around to watch him lower himself, Bacchus loved to cuddle in the crook of Ryan's arm and groom his beard for him. In the bathroom, stangely enough, he became a kitten again, looking for affection and cuddles. Outside the bathroom, he was crotchety, cranky and callous. It was like Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde some days.
He loved his water dish. He'd gaze into his reflection and would sometimes tap the side of it to move it to what he deemed better location. This led to many curses in the morning when Ryan or I stepped in a fresh puddle!He hated the dog, being followed by anyone, and he especially hated closed doors.
But from time to time, he and the other cats called a truce and spent some quality lazy time together.
Last week, he started to cry a lot, which wasn't that strange for him. He was always very vocal about his needs. Unfortunately, he was trying to tell us his kidneys were shutting down. Within three days, he had become a frail, fragile cat. Not our chubby, robust Bacchus.There was nothing we or the vet could do. We made the difficult decision to end his pain. The sudden loss of his presence is a shock to all of us. It will be a long time before the house feels full again.
We were very lucky to enjoy 11 years of this unique and wacky feline. He is missed.
Bacchus
2000-2011
