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| Name: |
Claude
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Age: |
One year, two months old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Domestic Shorthair
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| Home: |
New Orleans, Louisiana, USA
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Meet
Claude Cat Coleman, formerly known as Dumpsta Cat.
"If we ever get a cat, I'd like him to look like a male version of her," my
husband, Jon, said about Silverbell, a two-year-old gray and white cat who I
pet sat in July. Though he said it casually, his statement gave me great hope
that sometime, maybe in the next year or two, we'd adopt a pet together. It
had been a few years since I lost Schuyler, an adult rescue cat who developed
multiple health problems during the five years she was my constant companion.
I was itching to adopt again while also trying to be respectful of my new
husband's hesitancy to become a first time pet guardian.
A few days after Jon met Silverbell, I met Claude. I went to Prytania
Veterinary Hospital (PVH) to post business cards for Jellicle Pet Sitting (my
business), and couldn't help but take a look at the kittens in the front
cage. A small gray and white, green-eyed, shorthaired one caught my eye, and
my mind began racing. I wasn't sure at first if I would even tell Jon about
the kitten, but I asked to hold it anyway. I found out it was a he, nicknamed
"Dumpsta Cat" because he was rescued from a dumpster, at about three weeks
old and one pound, and brought to PVH by a very kind man. The vet who
examined him, Dr. Biondolillo, thought he was going to have to be put to
sleep due to his condition, but when the staff cleaned his face with a cotton
ball, he started sucking the water from it. Apparently, the little guy was
quite a fighter, and his health improved. I was told that even though he was
smaller than the other kittens in the cage, he was a bit of a bully who kept
the others under his paw, which was hard to imagine but quite amusing. I sat
and watched him for a while, and decided that whether he became mine or not,
he looked like a kitten who should be named Claude.
Of course I called Jon as soon as I walked out of the office. Surprising me
again, he agreed to go in the next day "just to see" the kitten. He liked what
he saw. Over the next week, we discussed the personality of the cat we wanted;
the yearly costs of a healthy cat; and how we would divvy up the pet-related
duties. We also confirmed with my father-in-law that his cat allergy would be
treatable when Jon's family comes to visit. During that week, I went to see
Claude almost every day. I held him a little, watched him play, played with
him, and shared some sweet eye blinks the one day I caught him in a sleepy
mood. He definitely seemed like the type of cat we were looking for: playful
and spunky; sweet, but not a lap cat. While I was busy visiting Claude, Jon
was making up his mind that his wife the pet sitter should have a pet of her
own again. He says I didn't pressure him, but I did "propagandize" with
articles about how pets can make you healthier and happier; facts about cats;
and the amazing story of Dewey the library cat. A secret visit to PVH helped
Jon be certain about Claude in particular, and later that same day I left a
very excited after-hours phone message saying that we were adopting the gray
and white kitten formerly known as Dumpsta Cat.
Claude's adjustment from caged kitten to house cat was extremely quick and
easy, and I attribute much of that to the great care he received at PVH. In
the first few days after he came home, while he was sniffing every inch of his
new domain, eating a lot, and climbing up my chest to give kitty kisses, he
was also capturing our hearts (as well as any other body parts available for
rubbing, biting, or sniffing) under his paw.
Months later, it's hard to imagine life without Claude, who is almost
six-months-old, eight pounds (large for his age!), and extremely long and
tall. He's hysterical, feisty, and also incredibly good-natured. Just as Jon
and I thought, he's not a lap cat, but he does like to sit or snuggle next to
us or near our feet. He wrestles and plays hide and seek. When I walk in the
front door, Claude's often atop his climbing tower, and rolls over to have
his belly and neck scratched or buried in kisses.
As I write, Claude and Jon are playing a routine game of fetch. Claude carries
a toy in his mouth up to the top of the couch, and then Jon throws it across
the room. Claude retrieves it and they repeat over and over until he tires. I
love watching the two of them bond. Before we adopted Claude, when Jon was
worried he might not like having a pet, I was worried I might have a hard time
sharing my pet, even with Jon. Happily, Jon and I have found a great balance
of companionship, fun, pet duties, and pet-free times. Plus, we laugh and
smile at least ten times more now!
Claude knows to go to me for sweet words, chasing romps around the house, and
no holds barred tussles on the rug. He goes to Jon to be picked up, play, and
get treats or ice cubes. Yes, it seems the thirst for life that Claude
displayed by sucking on that cotton ball has grown into a full on thirst for
fresh water, whether it's from my glass ("No, Claude, you have two water bowls
of your own!"), the shower ("Come on in, but you're not going to like it in
here, it's wet!"), kitchen sink ("Down, Claude!"), or the ice cubes that Jon
treats him to each morning in his water bowl. He gets ridiculously excited
when he hears the crack of the ice tray! The former "Dumpsta Cat" is both a
lover and a fighter, and I love that gray and white spitfire fiercely, which I
expected would happen. What I didn't expect is that Claude would also become
such a large part of Jon's and my love story.
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