Riding Copilot

The past seven days have been nothing short of amazing. One of my persons, Jacque, visited from sun-soaked California and we had such a delightful time. We talked for hours, shared experiences, dined at restaurants, strolled through fanciful stores that I wouldn't normally visit, hiked DuPont Falls, tubed down the French Broad, and caught up on everything that has happened in our lives over the past few years since we've since each other. I've said it before--Jacque has been a pivotal person in my life as I've known her since I was about 16 years old. She's intuitive and insightful and has a lot of wisdom for her years. She's a rare gem and I'm thankful she's in my life.

Today marks another monumental day: we're bringing home a kitten from the Humane Society. They're running this $5 kitten sale through the month of June and so we're taking advantage.

We got Bax, our deaf cat, shortly after we moved here. I had a cat--Ebony--but she was old and frail and mine. Jace is a nut when it comes to animals. He just can't get enough. We'd have a zoo if he had his way. Roy's worker, Drew, had white kittens they were trying to give away and so on a weak moment, Roy told Drew to bring them over and we'd take one. And so, shortly before Christmas of 2010 Drew's mom brought over a bag decorated like a Christmas present and filled with three kittens for us to choose from. One of them had short hair and bright blue eyes...and he was deaf. Roy and Jace immediately latched on to that one. I was hesitant--a deaf cat? How is that going to work? But they were adamant that he was the one and so I complied and Bax joined the family. (We also took another one--Bella--but that's another story for another day.)

Anyway, Bax must have intuitively known I wasn't keen on the idea of a deaf cat as he never liked me. But Roy and Jace? Oh my word! He was their cat! Jace could haul him around like a sack of potatoes and he would meow for more. But if I tried to pick him up, he would immediately use his paw to push away from me and frantically try to escape. And I am the one who fed him daily!

He followed Roy like a dog, meowing after him the whole way. If Roy worked out in the garage, Bax would lay in the driveway, patiently waiting for as long as Roy chose to be there. And Bax adored golf cart rides. It didn't matter where he was on campus--if he spied our golf cart, he would come running as fast as he could, meowing this obnoxious, loud meow. (We always figured he couldn't hear himself so he had no idea how loud he was.) Roy would always stop and wait when he saw Bax headed his way and Bax would climb on, jump on the seat beside Roy, and away they would go.

But here's the kicker. If I happened to be in the golf cart, Bax would look up, see me, and turn and walk away.

Yeah.

Rejection.

Bax was deaf so he had so many absurdities. He didn't mind vacuum cleaners. You could scream and clap at him all day long and he wouldn't flinch. And he loved napping in the road. The people around here knew to look out for him and I watched far too many cars come to a dead stop and wait for him to move, drive around him, or even get out and move him. He was our miracle cat and Roy always proclaimed he had a very active guardian angel.

But when we were in Florida the inevitable happened: we got a call that Bax was hit on the road leading up to Faculty Lane. I guess his guardian angel got tired. Bax survived 4 1/2 years but I will say that he lived life with gusto. He enjoyed every minute, soaked in every day. In his head, he was king of the mountain and whether it was bringing down a turkey (which he attempted a few times without success, thankfully) or napping in the living room, he lived life as though it was his for the taking.

I have a feeling that Bax is one of a kind. I'm not game to get another deaf cat and his quirkiness was certainly not the norm.

Roy took Jace this past Friday to pick out a kitten at the Humane Society. He's precious--black and white, long hair, piercing eyes. He's just a little thing but I'm sure that he'll adjust quickly to life in the Seals home and be bouncing everywhere driving us all nuts as kittens do. And I expect he'll be a normal cat. He'll run from the vacuum cleaner and he'll run when he sees a car approaching. That's a good thing. We haven't officially picked out a name. The kids all vote Oliver but Roy is determined it needs to be the name of a warrior as our gray cat is Sparti--short for Sparticus. We'll see how that turns out.

But regardless...

I'll miss seeing Roy in the golf cart, a big ole grin on his face, as Bax rides co-pilot.