philosophy at age eight

“If you cannot control your peanut butter, you cannot expect to control your life.”
~ Judah-ism

Friday, December 31, 2010

koomyn the cat

Koomyn came to our house from a box in front of Fred Meyers, a little over ten years ago now.  The teenage girl was walking around with him---all alone, the last of his litter---begging everyone she saw to take him home; he was midnight black, and it was the day before Halloween.  As silly as it is, since black cats are still sometimes harmed around Halloween by wannabes, I was really worried about him ending up in the wrong hands. Which was as good an excuse as I needed. 

He grew up big and black, with changeable yellow-gold eyes and the sweetest disposition ever. What a cuddler; when I came home from work and plopped down on the bed, he would immediately climb up on my chest and settle down. If I was tilted at an awkward angle, he'd just stick out his back leg and balance while pinning me with that slitted stare, until I got the message and resettled appropriately.  Then if I didn't start scratching and petting quickly enough, his nose and tongue would gently nudge my chin.  If that didn't work, his head would begin butting against it, until he had my head forced sideways, trapped under his great, wide cheeks, where he would settle happily.  Defeated, I would have to begin the adulation he deserved for putting up with all the shit he put up with during the day from my kids.

He really did have a ridiculous amount of patience for nonsense from the kids (aged 5-13 [daughter] and  3-11 [son] while he was with us). I can't imagine a more perfect addition to our family; so I haven't been able to face the idea of getting another cat in the couple years since he passed away. I can't even think about him without crying, which is why I've put off this post for so long.

But it needs to be done.  He is missed like no other.

Only a couple years old, before he became a big lion of a cat
On the back porch with Mae, reading snug in the blanket

"Sigh... doctor again?"
All John had to do was stand over him and talk sweet nothings... and Koomyn would writhe around in ecstasy, meowing.
Koomyn had the funniest sprawl, splaying his legs wide so his tummy was flat on the ground. 
In a cave, on a box, ahhhh... a day's work done
And we thought he was big before he learned to open the cupboard!
Can you see Bijou, the black guinea pig, snuggled tight? I have no idea why, but these two got along just fine
This went on for a while, until Bijou started nuzzling and grooming Koomyn's tummy. Which was fine...
...until Bijou took a little nibble out of poor Koomyn's nipple.  Never saw that lazy cat move so fast in my life.  I don't think that was the kind of intimacy he was looking for.
On my chest as I tried to sleep away Saturday morning. My daughter's favorite way to wake me up.
Did I mention how very patient this baby was?
Looking innocent in this situation is so not going to work
Koomyn climbed under the bathroom sink in our North Hollywood apartment to escape the heat of high summer. Poor baby.
more napping
Kiddie hyjinx with my glasses
And a cat's revenge, muh-wahhahaha
Splayed flat once again, Koomyn engages in a staring contest with his catnip-stuffed mouse
Flat as can be
Oh, Ribbie.
In the backyard flowerbed, wild kitty lurks...
Guarding the shady spots against encroachments. Poor Bunn (little white dog on the left) was actually smaller than Koomyn. Wasn't much of a contest.
muy bueno

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