Bob

The summer before my second year at UW, my parents bought a rental house in which my brother and I would live and rent rooms. My parents made a no pets rule, which of course I immediately changed to no dogs, cats allowed, since that was my main reason for moving out of the dorms.

I went to the King County Humane Society shelter looking for a kitten. I was playing with some cute little grey tabby kittens when I felt a paw tapping me on the head. I looked up to find this very handsome medium-hair tuxedo juvenile male cat with black and white paws purring and rubbing against the bars of the cage. I took him out and was hooked. I renamed him Bob (out of respect I will not reveal what the shelter had been calling him – yuk!) and took him home the next day after he was neutered. Unfortunately he was given ketamine for his neuter, which is a hallucinogen, so he was acting crazy and running into the entertainment center trying to escape and nobody would believe what a sweet cat he was! But it wore off and he became the sweet, adventurous kitty I adopted.

For the next 17 years Bob remained a constant companion in my life. He happily accepted Tony into our family and slightly less happily accepted other cats, human children, and even a dog. I have many wonderful memories of Bob. I remember how he used to sit out on the balcony of our house in Seattle and keep watch over the neighborhood – he would often be there watching for me when I walked home from school. In our apartment in Folsom he would go outside and collect hundreds of burrs that we would have to brush and cut out of his fur. He loved to lay on top of the TV and during the summer Olympics he surprised us by trying to attack the male gymnasts spinning on the rings from his perch on top of the TV. I recall that he was slightly humiliated when we dressed him up as a framer to go with Gig's costume as a cow - but came in second place in the contest! He popped the screen out of the window in my trailer in Pullman, letting Gigabyte escape, then later, maybe feeling guilty, led me to Gig’s hiding spot under the trailer. He would get frustrated trying to hunt while leashed to Gigabyte since Gigabyte would intervene at the most inopportune times. However on long cross-country road trips he would climb into the carrier with Gigabyte for comfort.

Bob knew when I needed comforting and was always there when I needed him. He also liked to just hang out with me, spending many happy hours laying in the sun of the sewing room while I worked on quilts or while I studied. I loved Bob and tried to give him the best life I could, though I could never repay him completely for everything he was for me. Bob was purring and happy up until the last night before he passed away, almost 17 years after that wonderful day I found him at the shelter.