Readers' Tails

A Tale of Two Kitties

By Annie Tomlin

  Call me a curmudgeon, but I loved my cat Mikan more than I like a good number of people. He was a quiet, orange and white Tabby—a bit of a mama’s boy, but friendly to everyone just the same. We were a peculiar and happy pairing: He’d lick my face and I’d sing to him in Japanese (mikan is Japanese for mandarin orange, and since he was orange...you get the picture). We had four good years. When he died suddenly from cardiomyopathy last year—he did have a big heart in more ways than one—I was devastated.

No cat could ever replace Mikan, and no cat ever will. But a life without purring and snuggling is a lonely one, and it was only a few days until I set out to find a new kitty. Loving another cat, I reasoned, wouldn’t mean that I loved Mikan any less. However, it was important for me to find a cat with whom I felt a similarly strong connection, so I traveled from shelter to shelter each day in search of my new boy. I saw dozens of beautiful, sweet-natured cats, but I didn’t feel the right click. And if you’re not certain about a connection, I think it’s best to keep looking.

After a week, I found a small puffball of a kitten at the Animal Care and Control. I had actually planned to adopt an adult, but this little guy had plenty of personality. He was a light orange with slightly pink overtones, and when I approached his wire cage, he’d start purring. He was a funny little pouncer, always purring when I came near. After about an hour of us checking each other out, I felt confident that we had a good human/feline spark, and I took him home. I named the kitten Minou—French for kitty—and watched with joy as he confidently explored his new home over the next few weeks. As time passed, he progressed from being a shy baby to tearing up the house as a rowdy toddler.

Things were good (he developed a penchant for “kneading” my hair while I slept), but Minou seemed a bit lonely. I decided to adopt a second kitty—purely for Minou’s benefit, of course. He is a gray Tabby Munchkin named Milo. Together, they’re a great comedic duo. Milo chases Minou with the energy of a baby tiger, and Minou taunts his little brother by hopping on countertops too tall for Milo’s reach. They’re both affectionate, friendly, funny, and loving; I feel fortunate to come home to these sweet little creatures each day.

Of course, as much as I love these boys, I’ve never really stopped missing Mikan. Sometimes one of the kitties will echo Mikan’s chortle or unearth one of his long-lost catnip toys from the bowels of the couch, and it’s a bittersweet moment. I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over losing Mikan so suddenly and unexpectedly. But I’m positive that without Minou and Milo, I’d have sunken into despair. By adopting them I’m able to remember Mikan’s personality while loving them for their own. I know I’m sinking deep into catlady sentimentality, but it’s true: Without them, I would be a less loving and caring person. It’s because of them that I’m reminded how fortunate it is to find someone—or in this case, two squirrely little cats—to love wholeheartedly.