b. ca. January, 1991
d. August 27, 2007
A Faithful Feline Forever.
On the twenty-seventh day of August, 2007, at four hours past noon, our cat Rory died of heart failure. He was nearly 17 years old. Rory is survived by his companions in feline mischief Emily and Apostrophe, and by Michelle and I, his faithful staff.
Rory (short for Rorschach) was born to an unknown mother cat sometime during the winter of 1990-1991. When he wandered into Shal and Annette's yard that spring, he was estimated to be only about three months old. Rory came to live with Michelle and I within a few days. He came to us with a clean bill of health and his first round of kitten vaccinations thanks to Annette and Dr. Sylvia Domotor. Dr. Domotor has been his first choice of veterinarian for his entire life, and she was with him when he died. We named him Rorschach because the tabby patch on his body was shaped like a perfect ink blot. He quickly became Rory for day-to-day usage, at least partly out of an urge not to have to spell Rorschach all the time.
As a young cat in our condo, he amused us by following us everywhere, sitting on my shoulder, and sleeping curled up tightly in my armpit. That first spring he was too small to climb the stairs easily, but stubbornly managed them one step at a time anyway.
When we moved the following winter to our current house, naturally he came along. We weren't too worried about the relocation because he had never been allowed to be outside unsupervised. The move itself was uneventful, and with one minor exception he immediately took over the new, larger, space.
His first experience with ceiling fans unfortunately coincided with his first experience with large expanses of linoleum flooring. The new house came with a ceiling fan in the dining room, and linoleum over the entire dining and kitchen spaces. On his first exploration of the house, he was uncertain about the cold flooring. About the second time he wandered into the dining room someone had turned the fan on. He got out into the center of the floor, then realized something was wrong. Hunkered down, he scanned the room for the threat, saw the large, moving fan blades, and panicked. At that point, he learned that it is not easy to accelerate from a standstill on clean linoleum....
Once we were all well established in the house, Emily wandered onto our doorstep. When she and Rory touched noses through the screen door, we decided that it might be safe to capture her and add her to the family. After she got a quick visit to Dr. Domotor, we solved the often thorny problem of introducing the second cat to the house by leaving on vacation for two weeks. When we returned, neither cat was speaking to us, but they were fast friends and remained so to the end. For his last weeks at home, Emily was helping to clean Rory up after syringe feedings, and generally grooming him in his last few days.
Our third cat, Apostrophe, was also a stray. We watched him grow up from a clumsy kitten barely able to walk without tumbling, into a lanky, amiable klutz. He argued persistently for months that there was room for at least one more cat inside, and we finally relented and moved him indoors full time after the second trip to a kitty ER to have punctures on his backside cleaned out. Rory took the addition of a third in stride, and in time they too became fast companions.
So, Rory, requiescat in pace. You touched many lives, and are missed by all who knew you.