Our sweet, beautiful calico died on January 4 after a brief illness at age 17+. She was born in the French countryside south of Paris and was C's first cat as an adult. Molls arrived a few months later and Tomi quickly established herself as the alpha making her point known by biting Molls in the tail as she used the litter box. Although they curled up together while kittens, as adults they sparred occasionally during their lives together. Usually, it was Molls, having reached her breaking point of annoyance, would simply walk up and unleash a single right hook to Tomi's grill: "Bitch, I've had enough of your bullshit." Tomi would run away outside or downstairs, later to return unrepentant and try to steal Moll's supper.
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| Last photo of Tomi with C just before Christmas |
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It struck C hard upon realizing that Tomi had been with her nearly a quarter of her life. Another's death tends to bring one's own mortality in focus.My relationship with the Tomster had quite an arc. When C came over from Paris with Tomi, Molls and Moll's son Minn, we lived in a duplex off Hagadorn Rd in East Lansing. Tomi, for some reason was terrified of me and would stay in the basement if I were around. She was never abused by a man, C said, she's just a "skitty kitty" and that moniker stuck. It took some time for her to be comfortable with me and only in the final year of her life, (see 12/21/21 post) did she actively seek out physical attention and laptime. Her being a skitty kitty was helpful at times: if I was waiting for a contractor and was killing time with some chore in the kitchen, I always knew when they had arrived. I would see Tomi in the library sitting fully erect, eyes and ears forward, staring out the window. Then she would be dashing madly through the kitchen to the downstairs, claws clattering on the linoleum: "OMG!OMG! Someone here!!! Dad, Dad OMG!! Helpful when expecting a package from Amazon as well.
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-Holiday card from 2016-
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I gave her the name of Tomi as her skinny body, beautiful markings and sashaying hips reminded me of a spoiled girl from a rich family who worked as a Parisian model. You know, the kind that can eat anything they want and not gain an ounce (I gain weight looking at food!), possessing fierce claws (she never did learn to pull them in and forever was getting them caught in blankets, clothes, area rugs) and frankly, not one of the brightest crayons in the box. A bit of Tomi lore:
One summer afternoon, a light rain had started. Tomi wanted out the Great Room slider so I complied. Within minutes, she was at the screen, hollering to come in and I complied again. She dashed to the cat portal located on the other side of the house and went out. Again, within minutes she was back. Seeing her, I said "Oh sweetie, the weather doesn't change from one side of the house to other. It's the same everywhere." "Mrowr" Tomi grumbled and went into the kitchen for a snack or if someone was around, to displace her annoyance and slug them.
Another moniker was "greedy gus" (a term my father used) as Tomi regularly tried to steal food from her roommates, usually Bin. We had to stand guard and shoo her away as she would lurk nearby or sniff tail in order to intimidate Bin away from his food. Alpha cat behavior.
Like Bin and Molls, she enjoy "helping" make the beds and sort/fold laundry. She loved sitting on bags, magazines, boots, clothing making sure they stayed put in case gravity failed. She also liked to play "let's walk under Mom and Dad's feet and not get stepped on" which to us was "let's trip Mom and Dad". Again, not the brightest thing to do: if we trip and fall, who is gonna open your can of pate?
Despite of her monumental battles with Bin in the early days of his tenure and the occasional left hook issued to both her roommates, Tomi was not a fighter of trespassing cats. That was Bin's forte. As a hunter, she was a hoot to watch: (Attenborough voiceover)Tomi, the great hunter of the Serengeti, creeping slowly, her gaze never shifting from her prey, who, in this case, is a common house sparrow Passer Domesticus. She is as low to the grass as she can while the seemingly oblivious sparrow, is hopping on the ground under the feeder. Ahh, her backside begins to wiggle back and forth, a sure sign an attack is imminent. She takes one step... Ooooh dear me-the sparrow has flown away.
Tomi was less successful than the other two but she would frequently be heard by us in our studys, coming down the hall with a stuffed toy in her mouth, crooning. If our door was open, she would come in, drop the proxy on the ground. The expected reaction by us was to say, "Oh mighty Hunter Tomi" and she would leave. It was not unusual to wake in the morning and find proxies by our bedroom doors.
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| One of my favorite photos: Tomi on the hunt with a fearless Chickadee having a safe drink at the fountain. |
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I hope Tomi considered that she had a good life with C and I and hope whatever becomes of her in the next cycle that life will be just as good. Thanks for being a good companion and roommate. So glad you took a chance late in life and took pleasure like the others with scritches and laptime. Miss you, love you.
