Linus

Is there anything cozier than a sleeping cat? Anyone who lives with a feline knows: they have "napping" perfected to an art form. Linus looked like a little angel when he slept, a tiger-striped ball of utter contentment. To see him in these moments, you'd never guess he could go completely psycho-kitty at the drop of a hat. Literally, if someone dropped a hat. Or anything else. Or, nothing at all. He would be in what appeared to be the soundest of sleeps, when suddenly he would bolt awake and down the hall. This was most unfortunate if he happened to be on your lap at the time, particularly if you were wearing shorts. It also happened when he was awake. He'd be sitting there peacefully when suddenly - ACCKKK! He'd tear out of the room. This didn't happen often, perhaps once every few months. But often enough that I began to wonder about the existence of a feline version of sensory integration disorder. Or, perhaps it wasn't that complicated. Someone offered this theory after witnessing one of his psycho-kitty moments: "Maybe he sees dead people."

And bless his heart, Linus was a holy terror at the vet. Even sedated (the only way to get him there), he occasionally got loose and raced around the exam room. I remember leaving the room once when the gloves and giant cat-catching net came out. It was just too stressful to endure. I sat in the lobby, listening miserably as ear-splitting howls of cat fury issued forth from the back regions of the clinic, along with the occasional clatter and crash. Arriving clients' eyes widened as they came through the door and heard the ruckus. It was kind of embarrassing, actually. I found that the best approach in such situations was to feign ignorance. Look appropriately startled and glance around the waiting area as if wondering, "Gee, I wonder whose cat that is?"

But Linus had a sweet side to his personality bigger than the psycho side that occasionally emerged. He was such a snuggle-muffin! No matter where he was in the house when you sat down, he'd be on your lap within 30 seconds, whether he knew you or not. Linus was very outgoing, unlike his sister Lucy, who in her younger years preferred to wait behind the dryer until the visitors were gone. 

Catching the screen saver was his personal mission in life.  

Although I don't think he ever caught it.

Little angel boy, hard to believe he's been gone 4 years. Time really does fly. Our furry family members bring so much into our lives, and it often feels like they just don't live long enough. I'm always grateful when the tears pass, leaving behind the smiles - and memories of a gray head peering behind the monitor in bewilderment, "Where did that thing go??"

(Linus: August 1999-March 2007)