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Sex: Male Weight: 14 lbs.
|Home:Rego Park, New York ||[I have a diary!] |
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Leave a treat for B.A. (1984-1998)
Catster stats for B.A. (1984-1998)
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Special Gift Box:
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Black and White
Mom's working too hard.
Favorite Nap Spot:
Bed and hutch
As I mentioned in his bio, Cappuccino turned into a well-behaved gentleman-cat when my friend’s cat stayed with us. The obvious solution, so I thought, was to get him a companion. Little did I realize I was inviting in double-trouble—but I get ahead of myself.
My Dad refused to drive me out to the Long Island, North Shore Animal League, telling me I couldn’t afford another cat (he was right), but fate intervened and sent me B.A. I had stopped to play with a kitty outside the neighborhood candy store and when I went in to make a purchase, the store owner asked me if I wanted a kitten. Well, yes! Out came 4-month-old B.A.
B.A. was my honey. He was part of my inseparable black-and-white kitty trio, a sweet goofball with a penchant for trouble and a unique ability to leave chaos in his wake. He loved people, he loved cuddling and he loved being loved.
When I went back to school at night he did his darndest to keep me from working too hard. All I needed to do was walk away from an open text book. By the time I got back to it, Misha and B.A., posing as hood ornaments, had each taken up residence on the right- and left-hand pages. Writing a term paper and trying to hold on to the last shred of my ability to concentrate was no easier. “BEE AAAAY, DELETE!” “What did I just call him?”
He made a joyous game out of our bed-time ritual. He would see me heading to bed, beat me there and plop himself on the pillow. I jelly-rolled him into the comforter, poked at it and put my cheek against it while B.A. purred away inside. On Saturday mornings he gnawed on my head until I got up to feed him.
He loved food. What he couldn’t mooch he would try to steal, and, with certain foods, he turned into a clairvoyant. I could take anything I wanted out of the freezer without him noticing, but think about ice cream and… He almost really did get to cart off that frozen Cornish hen I left on the counter.
And we had our own song from “Fiddler on the Roof”. “Do you love me?” “Do I love you!” Every time I sang it, B.A. would stand in a chair with his front paws perched over the back and plunk a big, fat kiss on my lips.
The people who gave me B.A. named him after “Bad Attitude” from the T.V. show, “The ’A’ Team”. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He was the original mush cat and he will always have a very special place in my heart.
B.A. was diagnosed with lung cancer and went to the bridge only one month after Cappuccino. He was 14 years old.
Je suis Gavròche
I've Been On Catster Since:
|November 9th 2010
||More than 4 years!
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April 24th 2011 8:33 pm
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The people who rescued me as a kitten called me B.A. after the “’A’ Team” television show character, Bad Attitude. I didn’t have an attitude problem but Mom didn’t change my name ‘cause I already knew it. I was the first of her kitties to teach her what true kitty love is about. I gave big fat kitty kisses and loved people and getting lots and lots of love.
When she thinks of me she thinks of Gavroche, the charming street urchin in Les Misérables ‘cause I also loved mischief! One of my favorite things to do was shred the telephone directory. It made such a nice paper snow storm. Watching the paper fly out the door was the best! I also liked my ‘let’s see what I can get away with stealing’ game. I had great luck with Mom’s watch. She woke up and looked at her wrist—hmmm…half past a freckle. MOL! But the bestest thing in the whole wide world was being rolled up in the comforter and poked! I purred and purred.
You know, sometimes Mom was so boring! She would put her head in a school book, and there would be nothing to do. That’s when my brofur Cappuccino and I would start livening things up. Once, he slipped off the bed and got stuck against the wall, butt skyward. Hee hee. He looked so comical in that tight jam that it made me pawsitively evil. I gave his butt my best smacky paw! But then I had to try it, didn’t I? I got stuck. He gave my butt his best smacky paw. ^..^
One really hot summer day, Mom and I were on the way home from the vet. We were about two blocks from the house when, all of a sudden she set the kennel cab down, waggled her finger at it and panted, “Okay, that’s it! No more ice cream, no more potato chips, no more pretzels!” Then this guy we didn’t know started laughing. Hey, wait a minute! I was big boy; I wasn’t fat! How embarrassing! True: I loved my food and I even ate Jalapeño Jack cheese. BUT I had a cast-iron stomach and I kept my svelte, hunky-cat physique way up to the end.
We said so many goodbyes that month when I was dying of cancer. Do you know that Mom has a pretty gold necklace with my mark on it? It’s a rope chain with an ever-so-slight kink I put there. She hung it around my neck with a lapis lazuli and gold amulet, and I wore it every day for the last week of my life. She prayed it would ease my way to the bridge.
The amulet was a ‘cartouche’ Mom brought back from her trip to Egypt. It was a copy of an ancient Egyptian scarab with the hieroglyph “Neb Kheperu Ra” molded into its setting (the royal name of King Tut). Kheper is the scarab, the dung beetle. Ra is the Sun God. The ancient Egyptians believed that the Kheper renewed the sun every morning and rolled it across the sky through the day. Then, after sunset, the Kheper carried the sun through the other world, and renewed it again the next day.
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