Catitude Dancing.
This was our cat Miss Artemis. We picked her up at the Providence Animal Rescue League on December 26th, 1989. She passed away on July 23, 2004. She went not only by Artemis, but most frequently by Arty, Arty-Barty-Boos, Barts, the Bartster, Bartys of the Bunny Fur (she always had bunny fur!), What-a-puss-plata-puss, Buddah Puff, and Lard Butt.
We brought her home when she was just five weeks old and covered with fleas. It was at this time that she came to learn to enjoy baths (yes, baths!)
From the start she was a hellion and she idolized Bill the Cat. "Aaachthppppt! Kiss the devil, kiss the devil! I snort the nose Lucifer, banana banana!"
She also had her pensive and reflective side . . .
"Where do the little birdies go when they die Miss Artemis?" "Sandwiches - next question!"
Dignified and stately, she could also be a doofus who periodically got high on the scent of old shoes . . . She also adored catnip and charging into paper bags in which she played hide and seek . . .
In August of 1990 Miss Drusilla entered Arty's life and ours. She passed away on April 3, 2006 . . .
Drusilla loved to eat (don't let her lithe figure fool you), as this half eaten pick, with HE also in the photo, shows . . .
The Drusters was a fat happy cat, whose hobbies included sleeping, eating and more sleeping! (On the whole, cats sleep sooo much that death for a cat really isn't much different from life for a cat, just fewer visits to the litter box!) She also was the scourge of house plants and Christmas trees. One year I came home to find her perched in the middle of our holiday tree; that night I awoke to find that she had conveyed all the soft ornaments (miniature knit stockings, etc.) from the tree and set them on our bed. Decorum prohibits my telling what happened to the tinsel . . . .
Drusilla was an occasional reader of the Classics . . .
While they were enthusiastic Hellenists, somehow Latin always put them to sleep . . . though the sound of my printer was always good for a game of "paw the dissertation while dad prints chapter 3!" . . .
They were also members of the kitty-mafia, and shakedowns for catnip were frequent and violent ("the Meownos - feline family redefined"). The two of them were also best buddies, although I think Arty got the better end of things since Drusilla was the one to clean her ears when they slept together . . . not that there's anything wrong with that!
The two of them had a routine of morning wrestling matches, with Arty always wiggling her butt waiting for Drusilla to turn the corner in ambuscade, then POUNCE, and the battle was on until the two made up for the day. (Bartys had a real mean right hook and tormented Drusilla for years, though we suspect that Drusilla was in fact the alpha tabby - but you could hear the "Bartys Boof" in the next room as she thwacked Drusilla upside the whiskers).
Snarfle urph snurfle grumph urph . . . .
In July of 1998 Miss Ashley Boots entered our life, an adoption from HE's sister-in-law. At the time she was 14 and lived to the ripe old age of 21, passing away in August of 2005. The Druster and Miss Boots, as she came to be called, were particularly bitter territorial rivals (and we always imagined Miss Drusilla saying to herself "Ooooooh I HAAAATE duh Siamese!!!!").
Miss Boots was quite the puff - an eccentric old lady who, like Frank Sinatra, did it her way! (Which is why she lived in my wife's home office for lo these many years!)
There you have it - three great feline companions - feles elegantissimae, who now rest together forever under a fig tree in HE's backyard.
Vale! Et tu!
(Meow Ack Thpt!)
PS - Special thanks to Glaukopidos for her help in posting these photos!
We brought her home when she was just five weeks old and covered with fleas. It was at this time that she came to learn to enjoy baths (yes, baths!)
From the start she was a hellion and she idolized Bill the Cat. "Aaachthppppt! Kiss the devil, kiss the devil! I snort the nose Lucifer, banana banana!"
She also had her pensive and reflective side . . .
"Where do the little birdies go when they die Miss Artemis?" "Sandwiches - next question!"
Dignified and stately, she could also be a doofus who periodically got high on the scent of old shoes . . . She also adored catnip and charging into paper bags in which she played hide and seek . . .
In August of 1990 Miss Drusilla entered Arty's life and ours. She passed away on April 3, 2006 . . .
Drusilla loved to eat (don't let her lithe figure fool you), as this half eaten pick, with HE also in the photo, shows . . .
The Drusters was a fat happy cat, whose hobbies included sleeping, eating and more sleeping! (On the whole, cats sleep sooo much that death for a cat really isn't much different from life for a cat, just fewer visits to the litter box!) She also was the scourge of house plants and Christmas trees. One year I came home to find her perched in the middle of our holiday tree; that night I awoke to find that she had conveyed all the soft ornaments (miniature knit stockings, etc.) from the tree and set them on our bed. Decorum prohibits my telling what happened to the tinsel . . . .
Drusilla was an occasional reader of the Classics . . .
While they were enthusiastic Hellenists, somehow Latin always put them to sleep . . . though the sound of my printer was always good for a game of "paw the dissertation while dad prints chapter 3!" . . .
They were also members of the kitty-mafia, and shakedowns for catnip were frequent and violent ("the Meownos - feline family redefined"). The two of them were also best buddies, although I think Arty got the better end of things since Drusilla was the one to clean her ears when they slept together . . . not that there's anything wrong with that!
The two of them had a routine of morning wrestling matches, with Arty always wiggling her butt waiting for Drusilla to turn the corner in ambuscade, then POUNCE, and the battle was on until the two made up for the day. (Bartys had a real mean right hook and tormented Drusilla for years, though we suspect that Drusilla was in fact the alpha tabby - but you could hear the "Bartys Boof" in the next room as she thwacked Drusilla upside the whiskers).
Snarfle urph snurfle grumph urph . . . .
In July of 1998 Miss Ashley Boots entered our life, an adoption from HE's sister-in-law. At the time she was 14 and lived to the ripe old age of 21, passing away in August of 2005. The Druster and Miss Boots, as she came to be called, were particularly bitter territorial rivals (and we always imagined Miss Drusilla saying to herself "Ooooooh I HAAAATE duh Siamese!!!!").
Miss Boots was quite the puff - an eccentric old lady who, like Frank Sinatra, did it her way! (Which is why she lived in my wife's home office for lo these many years!)
There you have it - three great feline companions - feles elegantissimae, who now rest together forever under a fig tree in HE's backyard.
Vale! Et tu!
(Meow Ack Thpt!)
PS - Special thanks to Glaukopidos for her help in posting these photos!
posted by Varro at 10:18 AM
1 Comments:
See, cats are smart! That's why they're hellenophiles instead of Latin Lovers. :-D (She says, before realizing she probably shouldn't say such things to her Latin prof...)
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