Hello!  I’ve been teaching more in January and, more importantly, getting used to a more morning focused schedule (waking up at 6 every weekday, 7 on weekends) and as a result I haven’t had much time here (as the 72 pieces of spam waiting for me to unapprove showed).

I hope to get back to more regular writing now.  Please stay tuned!  =)

It’s no wonder that even three months before he died Dionysus (aka: Dino) was bound to be found lounging on whatever paper he could perch himself upon- even if that paper happened to be the great book (albeit one third his size) you were trying to read. As a tiny kitten too small to yet be separated from his mother, Dino had the privilege of being scooped up from the barnyard litter of his brothers and sisters and swept off to the bedroom of my great friend, Matt Poland, where he was introduced to the arts of hearing readings the likes of Vonnegut and Sir James George Frazier while snuggled in the binding of some other great tome. Stretched over white pages filled with grey text of literary genius, his grey and white fur vibrating with purrs, his tiny being must have absorbed some of that quirky eccentricity inherent to the likes of many great writers and those who read them.

Dino’s favorite past times included hiding in dark corners, chasing his cat-nip filled mousse, biting my toes, and coercing David to give him an aggressive petting (which resulted in one of his many nicknames, Ruffy Tuffkins). Though his size increased to an impressive, muscular mass throughout his ten years of life, some things about Dino never changed. Terrible at hiding his misbehaviors, Dino would approach you to show his affection by head butting your shoulder or kneading your belly with his paws, leaving a path of wet paw prints behind him. He found fascination in the discovery of water and delighted in standing in his water bowl, splashing as much H2O as possible onto the ground (much to the dismay of the floors supporting his water dish)!

Gazing out windows and off balconies at the great big world below him, Dino found great delight in his ability to observe this life. Completely intimidated by engaging in much outside of this comfort zone of his, he darted away from the sounds of garbage trucks and speedily retreated inside the seat of his favorite chair at the presence of strangers.

But the thing about Dino, is that if you spent the time to get to know him, if you sat and waited for him to warm up to your presence, if you let him take his time in deciding how he felt about you, you would suddenly find one day that you’d made a new best friend. Like the artsy introvert who you might pass by and exchange a nod with hundreds times on your walk to work, misinterpreting the quietude for a boring personality, only to find upon a forced conversation that the depths of this person offer a whole universe to be discovered- so Dino may have appeared a typical skittish kitty. But at the depths of this animal existed a dynamo of personality and devotion and love that too few people got to experience during his lifetime.

Dionysus spent all but the first and last two months of his life as my faithful companion. He lived in my very first apartment after college and made every single move to nine homes in three states with me. He was with me longer than any man. He was witness to more details of my adult life than any human being. He crossed the entire United States of America and would have come to the other side of the world if I could have brought him. I am so thankful to have had this amazing furry friend, and could not have replaced him for anything. From his first year to his last, I am the only person he would let pick him up and hug him, and who he would hug back.

Dino died last night because he got very sick. It would have happened whether David and I were with him or not. We certainly wish we could have been there with him, but there are certain things in life you just know, and we know that Dino knew how much we love him.

I also know there are many people who have many diverse reactions to my life in relation to my cats. I’ve been demonized and harassed by animal rights activists for re-homing my cats when I moved to Abu Dhabi, I’ve been chastised by insensitive non-animal lovers for putting any effort into that process at all. I’ve been looked at as though I’m insane for having as much emotion as I do for my cats. I’ve been supported by an entire community of compassionate animal lovers, who like myself believe that these furry creatures have just as much of a soul as us humans. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, but at the end of the day I will say this: I have yet to meet any being who is not interested in being loved. I loved Dino, and Dino loved me. I know he had a great life, and I don’t think either of us would have changed a thing.