we welcomed this guy into our home when we were sharing an apartment in east brunswick, new jersey with a good friend our senior year at rutgers.  neighbor asked if I wanted a kitten and I said 'nah, I'm not really into cats'.  well, the thing about that is maybe you aren't 'into cats', but it's damn hard not to be into a teeny tiny cute big-eyed kitten.  and so that's how we got ziggy.  I wanted to name him abbey after edward abbey.  I think I'd just finished desert solitaire for the first time.  Mike thought it an effeminate name for a male cat and so for a while he was unnamed.  and then, ziggy.  our room mate had an awesome dog who I think thought he was more human than dog, and ziggy grew up learning how to come when we called him and how to fetch things.  they pretended not to like each other sometimes but more often snuggled together on the soft greenish-bluish couch.  the dog is sadly no longer around, but the room mate is still one of my dearest friends.  we visited recently and (as we often do at some point in our visits) laughed about how she found a stash of rodney's squeaky toys behind the hutch in the living room when she moved out.  I'd forgotten to mention that I would (sometimes) throw them back there when he'd (frequently) bring them to me at the crack of dawn wanting to play.  I suppose if she ever gets another dog maybe I owe her some squeaky toys.

this is not an obituary or eulogy or anything like that.  zig is still here and still very much alive.  I went through periods of not feeling very 'into cats' at certain points over the last two plus years.  part of mothering an infant/toddler, I think.  when I'd sit down and have a minute to myself and he would without fail find me and my lap at just the moment I needed to have myself to myself..... well, I can't tell you how many times I nudged that cat off my lap in recent years.  how many times I felt frazzled by his wee hour meowling (that is meow-howling, not a typo... I find it most accurately describes his voice at times) and inopportunely timed jumping onto dressers and beds when our light sleeper's 'sleeping' was in it's least existent stage(s).

but now, now that I am at long last reacquainted with sleep and really into the groove of being a mama.... now I find myself calling him to come sit with me on the couch and snuggle next to me at night.  I am falling for him all over again.  and I'm so glad he's still into me.  because I am way past my teeny tiny cute big-eyed kitten phase.


  1. we have a cat too. he's about 8 years old, we think. he's entirely too spoiled. he yoddles in the middle of night to go in or to come out, etc. if we don't respond, he knows where our windows are and will continue to try to get his way (yoddle) at our window. and for a couple of years, I've had not one lick of patience for nightwakings from the cat!!

    now though, he is bea's best playmate ever. he is redeeming my appreciation for him just by watching him have an insurmountable amount of tolerance for my three year old. sometimes, i let him cuddle with me on the couch and if he behaves, i'm happy to have him sleep between byron and myself...

    1. yoddles! I like it. (the sound of the word anyway, I do hope Ziggy doesn't start yoddling himself, though ;)

      ziggy is not quite ready for full on Claire playmate-hood. she is still a bit, um..... unpredictable for him. he likes predictable, I think. he gets to sleep with us, as long as he doesn't do that cat-making-biscuits thing on our legs and keeps pretty quiet, anyway.


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