Orange Tabby With an Attitide

I have probably mentioned my a deep affinity for orange tabbies in past posts. It's a small wonder that this little blog isn't overflowing with pictures of vibrant, beautiful, orange fuzz balls. You see, when I was just an tender three years of age, at the dawn of the endless summer that is youth, I met an orange kitten who was also just setting out on the journey that we call life . . .

Ah, sorry, I digress . . . On to the cat picture . . .


Here is an orange tabby who, on top of generally ignoring my offers of pets and imaginary treats, had the nerve to wear a scowl of irritation the entire time.

I have observed that this cat lives on a porch with several other standoffish cats. They have everything they need on the porch - food, water, cat carrier houses that are probably full of blankets or towels of some sort. By the roughness of his fur alone, you can tell that he is a little bit harder than your average house cat.

Rough fur or not, this cat is undeniably thugging. His possibly unintentional sneer conveys a sharply condescending attitude, as if to say "This cat is too damn important for your trivial crap".

The Golden Feline of Summer

I believe that summertime is the favored season of most cats. You can see it in their squinted smiles as they stretch out in a fresh ray of sunshine, warming up and relaxing.

I met this beautiful mostly golden cat on a particularly warm and pleasant summer day.

Usually a cat with a coat like this would be classified as a "tortoise shell" coated cat. However, I feel this cat and it's coat of fur deserves a class of it's own. I dub this fine and friendly little cat "The Golden Feline of Summer". Never have I seen this cat out and about when the weather was anything but sunny and mild.

If he didn't have a black little nose, I would consider the possibility that this cat is actually a shape shifting nature spirit who had hit the streets to announce the arrival of true summer!

Steve the cat

I am pleased for all of you to meet one of my feline neighbors, Steve the cat.

This handsome creature of the night has a purple name tag that identifies him as "Sara's Priceless Treasure", so that is what I called him for a time. SPT for short. Only recently did I discover that he has the very common human name of "Steve".

Steve's owner's landlord informed me that Steve is a very attention hungry animal. In the picture above he is making the customary cat ovation of rolling and wiggling around. I gathered that Steve's owner works late hours, hence the cat's forward nature.

I have a theory that Steve, due to his lack of a strong human role model, is subject to some confusing emotions and may have an issue or two. He loves attention and will purr his little heart out, but once you pet him he will assail you with love bites of steadily increasing intensity. Still, I consider Steve to be a solid cat friend and often I offer him the therapy of biting my hand a bit before I move on from him.

Cat Person

Nothing makes a housecat want to get outside like a real nice, bright and sunny day. They'll roam, sniff and lounge the day away like the little fuzzy princes/princesses they are.


Well, at least most housecats have a tendency to be that way. We caught up with mister orange tuxedo here, pensively waiting to get back into the safety and comfort of the human domicile.

More often that not in this situation, the cat will expect some help from me with opening the front door. Some cats just don't get it!

This cat, however, did indeed 'get it'. He got it so well that it appears he is in the process of teaching himself to open doors on his own. He made a great effort, but sadly he was not able to get the door open himself. I suspect that it may be common for cats that spend a good deal of time indoors to come to believe that they are humans. This cat, if any cat, probably thinks he is a person.

Mr. Pickles

I can remember the first time I heard about Mr. Pickles, a maine coon looking phantom of a cat. He was described as being a silly, whimsical cat who had the strange habit of emulating a racoon's style of running, with his tail lifted. I had the pleasure of encountering this cat myself on a few rare occasions and I was left with the distinct impression that I had met a very unique cat.

I was surprised to find Mr. Pickles outside enjoying a warm day, completely docile. Never before had be allowed me to get so close.

We must have caught him at the right time of day, during his hour of rest and lounging.

I believe that Mr. Pickles spends the majority of his time indoors, with a good old fashioned nuclear family. His quirkiness has probably developed as a response to living with children. That is my theory, at least. In any case, I was real glad to finally have a pet session with this peculiar cat!

Ouzo

And now we finally come to the friendly and mysterious, rotund and compact, black but kind of red in the sun cat that the human world knows simply as "Ouzo".

Presumably named after the Greek liqueur, Ouzo was the first cat in Portland that I got on a first name basis with. His owner strolled by during my initial petting of the cat and nonchalantly uttered the words, "that's Ouzo". From that point on, the cat and I have encountered each other often, each time with ceremonious meowing, petting and purring.

Here's Ouzo in one of his favorite places, kneading my man hair. Ouzo resides about two blocks from where I live, so I encounter him frequently - and at all hours. He loves a good sunny day, but he has also presented himself to me, most unexpectedly, in the dark hours that follow last call.

Ouzo is a cat of a different order, that is no doubt. His eyes are quite expressive, in a manner which seems closer to human that the majority of cats that I meet. On occasion I'll wonder if I am actually interacting with a shape shifting human. I have yet to meet another cat whose personality has led me to considerations of that nature.

Memphis

This is Memphis, a cat with whom I have maintained a steady rapport. He lives right around the corner and up the street a bit from me; it is a small wonder that he did not end up on this blog some time ago.



It's next to impossible for me to sneak past his house without him seeing or smelling me and running out to greet me. Once when I tried to avoid him by walking on the other street, he came running and meowing at intervals of about a half dozen cat steps. I picked him up and it was then that an older human neighbor of Memphis declared from a rocking chair on her porch, "That cat has passed through this realm many times!"

According to Memphis' human he is sixteen years old, yet in spite of this he still seems as bright eyed and vital as ever. However, when I apply my specialized cat massage to Memphis, he has a tendency to close his eyes and allow droplets of drool seep out of the ends of his mouth. He seems to enjoy the massage quite a bit more than other cats do.

I always find something to appreciate about every cat that I meet, some have more admirable qualities than others. But Memphis holds a special distinction to me, he is one of my few "cat bros". I try to see him regularly and occasionally bring him a bit of catnip or a small can of food.

There is another cat bro in my hood. He will be featured in next week's post.