LOUIE
“Kitzy Lou?!” exclaimed the woman at the MaxFund shelter in Denver, as the cat’s adoption paperwork was being prepared. Concerning his previously-given moniker, she insisted, “Change that name!”
We laughed, and we did! Our adoptee became “Louie.” But given that he came into our household just a couple days before Christmas, we also called him “Luis Navidad” – and, around the holidays, we would sing that name to him to the tune of Jose Feliciano’s “Feliz Navidad.” Louie had other nicknames, as well: Baby Budgems, Pudgy Budgems, Baby Snugems, Kitzylouhaber, Little Louis, Tiny Head (when his otherwise fluffy ruff was humorously smoothed down from our stroking), the Khaki Dracula, and Screwy Little Louie.
One of us had seen his “mug shot” online at the shelter’s web site (accompanied by the text “I did nothing wrong!”). Smitten by his soulful look, she was determined to meet him. Hand shy, at first, Louie soon lived up to billing as a loving cat. He’d stretch out on extended legs or curl up in a lap, and breathe a sigh of relief as he sank into relaxation – only to spring away after a few minutes. At first tentative about being around us, he soon came to rule the roost.
Louie would become placid during his dreaded visits to the vet’s office. Veterinarians and vet techs in both Colorado and Oregon would marvel at his soft fur, how silky he felt, and what a good patient he was.
Louie loved to sit stretched out like a Sphinx in front of the pellet stove and blissfully watch the flames.
That’s where Louie departed us on that fateful last day of January.
Louie left us with a warmth that will never be extinguished. We’ll miss the way he would look up, wide-eyed and perky, when he was being doted on by his beloved mama. He tolerated hundreds of kisses upon his beautiful head.
We just wanted him to know, while he was alive, that he was safe and cherished. We’d coo to him:
You are the sweet, sweet, sweet
sweet, sweet, sweet
