Chris Writes.

This has nothing to do with bicycles.  It’s just livin’ life.

I am allergic to cats.  That, alone, is typically enough to cement an opinion upon regarding all things feline.  For those of us afflicted by this common allergy, cats fall into one of two categories: house cats that make your eyes water and skin itch for hours, and larger cats that look at you as if to say “do you include dipping sauce?”.  I, through nothing more than angelic luck, seem to have discovered a third.  A category of cat that neither requires antihistamine with your daily coffee, nor wishes to eat you, and as an absolute bonus, contained a delightful personality that could perhaps be described as an extremely co-dependent and highly territorial version of Dot, the impossibly energetic cartoon character from Animaniacs. Curious yet refined, this Siberian breed actually lacks the gene that makes the bit that people are allergic to.  It’s basically magic, which worked in my favor, since she was a 14-year veteran of the girl I’d fallen for, and have since moved in with.

I’d never lived with a cat – Dad would have no part of it (due to allergy, see above, and maybe some other things, but who can be sure?).  He extended his allergy into a humorous animosity, but it wasn’t until I moved to Los Angeles and was introduced to my dear friend Steven’s wonderful cats that I had really started to grasp the concept of a cat as a family member.  I’d seen it with dogs, but somehow that seemed more tangible, more obvious.  Living in LA, I spent many a late night working on websites at Steven’s place, with at least a couple of his cats in close proximity (not to mention antihistamines, and gin martinis).  They were as much a part of the environment as I was, and they had rights that trumped any I might have earned.

MOSFET - 1994-2010

MOSFET was always her mom’s cat – there was no doubting the fact that she played favorites.  With 13-ish years of seniority over me, there ain’t no question that’s the way it was gonna be.  But I got through here and there, we had our moments, and we’d achieved a harmony where I’d earned the right to scritch her behind the ears, but mostly only if Mom was busy or not home from work yet.  Or if I had the kitty hairbrush. Somehow, I’ve got a knack with that thing.  When frustrated (or maybe when just bored, hard to be sure), she did her best to remove the carpet with her claws, especially when she wasn’t getting whatever it was she wanted (whatever that was).  And if I had a nickel for every time the phrase “cat-like typing detected”, I’d be able to purchase the hardcover collectors-edition of her gibberish novel many times over.  She did like to walk on keyboards, if only because Mom so often has one on her lap. She was a lover of sunbeams, and attacker of shadows. She slumbered with us, ate with us, and shed most of her hair on a specific area of the apartment.  She hissed at the vacuum cleaner anytime I pulled it out; clearly evil.  She knew exactly how she wanted the world to be, and it involved much tuna, napping, and attention.

It’s a sad day today – she passed away with her mom at her side this evening.  The apartment feels askew, and there’s a collar that is missing a kitten. We’re running through photos, sharing stories of this kitten that would take regular 3am sprints through the apartment for no apparent reason, and toasting her awesomeness with expensive scotch.  This officially crossed the line into family, and the loss feels real – the typical chirps and mewls she’d offer up when either of us got home are notably absent.  But I’ll be damned if she wasn’t the best cat ever. I mean c’mon – I wasn’t even allergic to her.  Clearly magical.

For a collection of awesome photos of this awesome feline, check here.