Gents, Topgumby reported the loss of an old family friend today when his beloved oldtom cat Norman passed away. This was touching to me because we followed a similar path with Siamese tomcat who should by all account have expired 20 years before he did. Read on.
Our particular piece of peskiness was Porky. A huge Siamese with the bluest, non-crossed eyes you've ever seen. He weighed 17 pounds in his prime and while he was chunky he was not a blubber butt. He was just huge for a Siamese. And his temper was large. His personality was large. His squalling at night was large. Everything about Porky was large. Including his life which stretched out nearly 22 years.
He got his odd name from my grandmother. She found him and his litter mates skulking around an abandoned chicken coop on her city property. He was the only one who looked the way he did so we wondered where he came from. Anyroad, he was much lighter in colour when younger and my grandmother always referred to him as 'that little tan cat with a dirty face'. Her vision was getting bad and she thought he was dirty from mucking around the coop.
She was in her 70s then in 1974. He became her constant companion and nuisance. She really took to him. He was never allowed in the house(oh no, not on grandma's watch) but she allowed him to sit on her lap when she was on the porch swing. A first in her 70 plus years. She fed the punk cornmeal mush. She died six months later in November 1974. My dad, who was closer to her than his own mother(and hated cats btw) immediately took Porky home with us and he never spent another night outside. The cat became a fixture in our home. I cannot begin to relate how smart that cat was. He understood how to open the screen door by jumping up and swatting the push lever with his paw. He wanted to attack tweety birds so bad he tried to crank our casement windows open as well. He didn't understand how they worked but he would bat at the handles with his paws because he knew they opened the windows somehow. No kidding. The old bollocks was too smart for his own good.
While good natured most times he had a streak of vengeance in him. If you crossed him by stepping on his tail or paw, even accidentally, he would get even later by jumping right in the middle of your stomach while you slept or doing a drive by(run by?) and biting/clawing at your ankle and then taking off like a shot. He was something else. He loved the entire family and insisted on sleeping with someone each night. If you kicked him off the bed, look out. He was going to light you up somehow.
Now to his longevity. I don't know how he pulled it off. Valentine's Day 1975 he dodged his first bullet by being at the veterinarian's office. He was being 'fixed' for numerous transgressions in the home. The final straw was looking my mom in the eye and spraying pee all over her bedside phone. She told dad to schedule the operation or the cat would pay more dearly. I always thought the date they chose was no accident. Well it may or may not have been but it saved his life. Our home was destroyed by fire that day. Porky dodged it by losing his manliness.
In the span of a few years we moved to and from three states. In the trip to sunny California he nearly choked to death when mom used the power window buttons in the New Yorker. He would not travel well in a cage and she let him sit on the back seat. The windows were down about three inches and he had stuck his head out to get some air. She just happened to look back and see him bug eyed and gasping in the window. No harm done but another life used up.
Fast forward four years and some friend's eldest son was getting married. This was 1982. They lived one state away and we had to travel about five hours to get there. Mom and my sister and I left early in the car and dad was following later in his truck. We were to be gone for three days so dad took the animals to a boarding house. Fortuitous since the ruddy house burned to the ground hours after we left. Another life used up. Thankfully no more fires since but I thought we were jinxed. There was nothing left but the foundation.
Various jail breaks, door sneaks, and other adventures followed but no more near death scenarios. He passed away in his sleep in late 1995 nearing twenty-two years of age. He was a shell of himself and I kind of wish he'd been put down earlier but hey, he commanded his kingdom to his own drumbeat for two decades. I still miss the old tom. He was one of a kind. So Topgumby, maybe Porky and Norman are enjoying a conversation somewhere together at how ridiculous and entertaining their humans were to them. I suspect both will be irreplaceable.
Our particular piece of peskiness was Porky. A huge Siamese with the bluest, non-crossed eyes you've ever seen. He weighed 17 pounds in his prime and while he was chunky he was not a blubber butt. He was just huge for a Siamese. And his temper was large. His personality was large. His squalling at night was large. Everything about Porky was large. Including his life which stretched out nearly 22 years.
He got his odd name from my grandmother. She found him and his litter mates skulking around an abandoned chicken coop on her city property. He was the only one who looked the way he did so we wondered where he came from. Anyroad, he was much lighter in colour when younger and my grandmother always referred to him as 'that little tan cat with a dirty face'. Her vision was getting bad and she thought he was dirty from mucking around the coop.
She was in her 70s then in 1974. He became her constant companion and nuisance. She really took to him. He was never allowed in the house(oh no, not on grandma's watch) but she allowed him to sit on her lap when she was on the porch swing. A first in her 70 plus years. She fed the punk cornmeal mush. She died six months later in November 1974. My dad, who was closer to her than his own mother(and hated cats btw) immediately took Porky home with us and he never spent another night outside. The cat became a fixture in our home. I cannot begin to relate how smart that cat was. He understood how to open the screen door by jumping up and swatting the push lever with his paw. He wanted to attack tweety birds so bad he tried to crank our casement windows open as well. He didn't understand how they worked but he would bat at the handles with his paws because he knew they opened the windows somehow. No kidding. The old bollocks was too smart for his own good.
While good natured most times he had a streak of vengeance in him. If you crossed him by stepping on his tail or paw, even accidentally, he would get even later by jumping right in the middle of your stomach while you slept or doing a drive by(run by?) and biting/clawing at your ankle and then taking off like a shot. He was something else. He loved the entire family and insisted on sleeping with someone each night. If you kicked him off the bed, look out. He was going to light you up somehow.
Now to his longevity. I don't know how he pulled it off. Valentine's Day 1975 he dodged his first bullet by being at the veterinarian's office. He was being 'fixed' for numerous transgressions in the home. The final straw was looking my mom in the eye and spraying pee all over her bedside phone. She told dad to schedule the operation or the cat would pay more dearly. I always thought the date they chose was no accident. Well it may or may not have been but it saved his life. Our home was destroyed by fire that day. Porky dodged it by losing his manliness.
In the span of a few years we moved to and from three states. In the trip to sunny California he nearly choked to death when mom used the power window buttons in the New Yorker. He would not travel well in a cage and she let him sit on the back seat. The windows were down about three inches and he had stuck his head out to get some air. She just happened to look back and see him bug eyed and gasping in the window. No harm done but another life used up.
Fast forward four years and some friend's eldest son was getting married. This was 1982. They lived one state away and we had to travel about five hours to get there. Mom and my sister and I left early in the car and dad was following later in his truck. We were to be gone for three days so dad took the animals to a boarding house. Fortuitous since the ruddy house burned to the ground hours after we left. Another life used up. Thankfully no more fires since but I thought we were jinxed. There was nothing left but the foundation.
Various jail breaks, door sneaks, and other adventures followed but no more near death scenarios. He passed away in his sleep in late 1995 nearing twenty-two years of age. He was a shell of himself and I kind of wish he'd been put down earlier but hey, he commanded his kingdom to his own drumbeat for two decades. I still miss the old tom. He was one of a kind. So Topgumby, maybe Porky and Norman are enjoying a conversation somewhere together at how ridiculous and entertaining their humans were to them. I suspect both will be irreplaceable.
Last edited:
