Things You Think You Know Are Often Wrong

In June of 2009, an old work friend I had not heard from in over a year e-mailed me.  They had found an Orange Tabby kitten and could not keep it, as their partner was severely allergic. They had taken the kitten to the local shelter, which was full. The kitten was placed in a foster home with the understanding that my friend would help find the kitten a forever home.

They said they remembered that my wife and I were cat people, and wondered if we would be interested in taking the kitten. We laughed because we were notorious for taking in stray cats. We have had between five and ten house cats for the past twenty-five years. Would we be interested…of course!! Sight unseen, we agreed to add the kitten to our brood.  

We arranged to pick it up the next day and called our vet to make an appointment for a checkup, shots, and neuter. We chose to name the kitten Sawyer, after the Rush song, Tom Sawyer. A good name for an orange boy. Or, so we thought.

Sawyer was as cute as advertised, and the drive to the vet was uneventful. He curled up in my wife’s lap and snoozed for most of the trip. Sawyer was a hit in the waiting room as he toddled around to visit everyone. Everything was fine until we were called into the exam room.

The Vet Tech took Sawyer’s temperature and weighed him with no trouble. The vet came in promptly and began to do a routine exam. He shined a light in Sawyer’s eyes and looked in his ears and his mouth.

“Looks good”, the doc said. Out came the stethoscope for a listen to heart and lung function. The doctor probed around the abdomen and under Sawyer’s hind legs. The vet lifted Sawyer’s tail to inspect Sawyer’s backside. Then it happened. “Well, there’s a little problem.”

Our hearts leaped into our throats. “Oh no! What’s wrong?” we both thought. What could be wrong with a kitten that seemed so healthy?

“I can’t neuter this cat.” the doc stated.  

A little confused, we both said, “Why not?”

Here is the first moral of this story. When living beings are involved, there is no such thing as ALWAYS. Over the years, we have been lucky enough to provide a home to two Orange Tabby cats – Dash and JJ. Both were good boys. As most people who live with Orange Tabbies will attest, they are generally even-tempered and affectionate boys. Our experience supported the general belief that Orange Tabbies are good BOYS. So, when the vet said, “This cat is a girl!” we were taken aback. We had been operating on the false belief that Orange Tabbies were always male. Wrong.

We laughed as the Dr. held up Sawyer’s tail for our inspection. Didn’t you notice, no testicles? In our defense, we don’t make a habit of checking out our cat’s junk … or lack thereof. “We thought Orange Tabbies were all male” we plead. He explained that this is a common misconception. About 80% of Orange Tabbies are male. So, while a female Orange Tabby is a little rare, they are not extremely so. One in five Orange Tabbies are female.

After our mild shock subsided, we went on with the exam. Sawyer kept her name – a good name for a girl too. After being spayed and receiving her shots, she came home to stay. Sawyer graced our home for eight years. Not long enough. A congestive heart condition took her from us on September 28, 2017. She went quietly at home in her cubby box.

It had been a depressing year for our family. The unexpected loss of Sawyer was the last in a line of sad events. But, as usually is the case, unexpected joy is often just around the corner.

November 22, 2017, was the day before Thanksgiving. My wife and I were getting ready for work at 5 AM when our gaggle of six cats began running frantically around the house. Out onto the enclosed back porch, into the house, back out on the porch, up in the window, down on the floor. Obviously, there was something outside the house. We live in a very remote area, surrounded by forest. Coyotes, javelina, mountain lions, foxes, and even the occasional bear make an appearance in our yard.

I closed everyone in the house so I could go out the porch door to investigate. With all the beasts that could have been out there, it was probably not wise to open the door armed only with a flashlight. But, like a cat, curiosity….

I opened the door as quietly as I could, so as not to frighten whatever was out there. The door was only open about six inches when it happened!  A blur of orange fur shot past my feet, into the middle of the room, and hunkered down on the floor in a manner that suggested the thought, “SAFE! I’m SAFE”.

I closed the door and went to see who our visitor was. Imagine that, a half-grown Orange Tabby cat. What are the odds? I went into the house and told my wife, “There is someone on the porch to see you.” I have a bad habit of playing stupid jokes at inopportune times, so she just rolled her eyes at me and went to see what I had done.

When we went back out to the porch, the little cat was sitting in the middle of the room in a pose that said, “I’m here. Where else would I be?”

My wife picked her up and hugged her. Yes, it was a girl. Again, what are the odds?

“Are we gonna keep it,” I asked … already knowing the answer.

“Of course, we’re gonna keep her. Sawyer sent her.”

I don’t believe in spirits, or the afterlife, or whatever, but I had to admit it was pretty weird. I do sometimes think nature knows who takes care of its creatures and sends them where they are in need. Maybe that’s why some of us are chosen by cats – because they know we will take care of them.

Riley is seven now, and still safe at home. Where else would she be?