Alaric the Visigoth

Domestic Medium Hair
Picture of Alaric the Visigoth, a male Domestic Medium Hair

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Home:Santa Rosa, a  [I have a diary!]  
Sex: Male   Weight: 8 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Alaric the Visigoth

Rumpledcatskin, Catty Bumpo, Vicious Alaricious, You Handsome Devil, Sid Vicious, My Wonderful Boy, Long Cool Kitty in a Black Suit, Al

Kitty Complexion:
sleepyvery active
not curiousvery curious
not vocalvery vocal

Sun Sign:
pet tag recovery serviceRainbow Bridge
Quick Bio:
-mixed breed-part feral-cat rescue

Gotcha Date:
October 25th 1990

July 15th 1990


Calm, birdwatching, Sitting on his pillow in the kitchen. Intimidating the dogs.

Fast movement, strangers, machinery, Morgan, traveling, THE VET, the dog, vacuum cleaners.

Favorite Toy:
Catnip. Chasing his own tail. (It can be amusing when he forgets it's attached and bites it.)

Favorite Nap Spot:
On the back of the sofa

Favorite Food:
Ham or bacon, but he won't take food from strangers.

Fights no holds barred. Can kill flies by clapping them between his paws.


Arrival Story:
An elderly man had found a kitten abandoned in a field. He had taken him into his enclosed porch and fed him, but had been too busy to befriend him or pet him. I was out appraising his house just before Halloween. My oldest cat had just died, and I did not want to add another one to my household until the cat I had and I had gotten over our bereavement. However, the elderly gentleman had put a sign out in his yard advertising a black kitten to be given away. He didn't realize that some people harm black cats, especially at that time of year, and I couldn't convince him of the danger. He kept saying, "No one would hurt a cute little kitten." So I got him to give me the cat. Once I got him home, he ripped a hole in the bottom of my box springs and climbed in. He stayed there for the next six weeks. I had a litter box, food and water in the room, which he'd use when I was out of the room. I would lie on the floor and reach into his hiding place and just barely pet him. Eventually, he started coming out when I was in the room. He was completely healthy, strong, and my hands and arms were ripped to shreds and I got several infected cuts from his teeth and claws while we were going through kitten shots, neutering, etc. He did NOT want to go ANYWHERE in that cat carrier. He still panics when you try to take him to the vet (or anywhere else, for that matter.) He bites. I have scars. His favorite saying would be "Change is bad."

He is declawed. Since he was too old to totally domesticate (about three or four months old) when I got him, and it became evident that with both teeth and claws I would not be able to get him to the vet once he was a big cat, the vet and I agreed that he was going to have to be declawed. Seriously, I have scars up my arms and all over my hands from his teeth and claws, much of it inflicted when he was still reasonably small. You can't really blame him about going to the vet, you know, first, it smells of terrified animals, and then there is the person who tortures you by putting you on a cold, metal table, sticking glass things up your butt, pressing on you, and shoving sharp things into your neck. And the person you trust takes you to this hellhole! Alaric is the only one of my cats that is declawed. The last couple of years, he's pretty much given up biting when faced with a cat carrier, too. He hates it, but he knows that he can trust me. Cats are civilized, so just because he responds to threat like a feral cat doesn't mean that he's not a loving, caring, affectionate fur person. He just doesn't make friends easily, and it takes time to win his trust. He adores me, and most of the hissing and spitting between him and Morgan is over who gets to sit with/on me. He even likes my husband. He is so suspicious of people that he doesn't know well that he will not accept food from them. Not only that, he won't eat the kind of food offered again for months. My exboyfriend tried to bribe him with bacon, which is a much favored food and he stopped eating it entirely for almost six months. His motto is "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you." When I was dating, he would sit by the doorway, and glare at my date with his evil, glowing, green eyes, and just sort of quiver. It looked for all the world like he was willing my date to die. More than one guy said that he was the creepiest cat he'd ever seen from that behavior. One silly guy on the first date told me, "That cat has to go." (You can see who I kept.) Alaric is very spoiled. He's so thin you can almost read through him, even though he's reasonably active, and very healthy for his age, so I sneak him ham, baby food, and other treats behind the backs of the other cats to "fatten him up" a bit, since the other two are not suffering from lack of calories. I do play favorites, though I try not to be too unfair. I sometimes think he believes in the axiom that you can never be too thin or too rich. Alaric returned to the lap of the Goddess on July 2, 2011. He died in my arms while having a second stroke. He was recovering from a first stroke, but it was apparently not meant to be. He is remembered with love and sadness. He charged gaily into the world every day of his life.

Forums Motto:
Paranoia strikes deep.

Sibling of the Week, Sibling Rivalry Forum, 10/28/06

I've Been On Catster Since:
August 23rd 2006 More than 10 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:

Meet my family
Morgan LeFayTamurlain the
Jia (Brea)Jamethiel

Meet my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends

Special Times

Alaric Passed Away on July 2, 2011

September 4th 2011 8:42 am
[ Leave A Comment | 1 person already has ]

He had had a stroke less than three weeks before, and he seemed to be coming back from it. Even the vet was impressed. Then he suddenly seemed to just lie down and give up. I had called the vet for an emergency appointment, and a few minutes later, he just died in my arms.


April, 2011

April 28th 2011 2:47 pm
[ Leave A Comment ]

It's been awhile since I last wrote anything. Jo and Toby moved and are living in the East Bay now. It's much quieter around here. I can get behind that.

Mary is concerned that I fall off the back of the couch or out of the window when I'm sleeping. I'm not sure why I do that. I seem to sleep sounder than I used to. I don't always wake up right away when someone calls me. The falling off furniture thing is new, but so far it hasn't hurt me.

Mom and Mary have a squirt gun that they use on Morgan and Tamurlain when they try to get my food. I get to eat all kinds of special stuff like meat scraps, Friskies, and baby food. And I get to eat whenever anyone is in the kitchen. Jia had to take prednisone for allergies, and so she started eating everything, like Toby did. Mom caught her taking food away from me, and boy did she get in trouble!!! Mom told her what a bad dog she was and made her listen to all that silly stuff while I scarfed.

I heard Mom tell Mary that she is going to take me and Jia to the vet on Wednesday. I will be missing if I can figure out when Wednesday is. I hate the vet. And last time, they took blood and urine specimen the hard way. I do not find that fun at all.

Mom joined something called the Red Hat Society. She has to wear this big feathered thing on her head. Jia growled at her. I thought it was funny. Weird, but funny. But then, people are weird. Mary spends hours fooling with sheets of paper. Jia helps her with that in some mysterious way, at least Mary says she does. I'm not going to help people do anything boring. Besides, it would interrupt my sleeping.


It's Been Awhile

July 4th 2010 1:06 pm
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Well, Mom has to help me with my diary, and she's been busy. She had to have surgery on her back last year, and she's not been in a mood to help with the diary.

Anyway, a lot has happened.

Mom's friend Mary moved in a little while after we moved. She is nice, and she gives me catfood, but she doesn't want to pet me, and she doesn't want to share HER food with me. Mom doesn't either. Nor does Lee. I'm not sure why they feel that way. It seems to me that if I want it, I should be allowed to have it.

Mary and Mom adopted a dog from Taiwan. Her name is Jia, which they say means "Beautiful." I'm not sure why they had to get a dog from Taiwan, but they did. She weighs 40 lbs, and she's very friendly, but I do not play with dogs.

I like the new house, and Morgan and I have kind of split up the territory. She likes the upstairs, and I like the downstairs. So I have my pillow in the kitchen and she has Mom's bed. Tam hates the house. He mostly stays upstairs, and he doesn't want to spend a lot of time looking out windows like Morgan and me.

Mom's friend Jo lives in our yard in an RV with her cat, Bug, and her dog, Toby. Toby spends most of his time in the house with Jia. Toby is like a vacuum cleaner for food. He goes over the kitchen floor like a Roomba and will eat anything that looks like food. If Mom isn't quick when I'm done to pick it up, he eats my food. He also likes to eat out of the litter box. He had to go to the vet after doing that, so now we have gates in the doorways of certain rooms, and I have to climb a gate when I want to go to the bathroom. BOGUS!!

The dogs beg with me and I don't mind that. Mom cooks dinner every day and she can sometime give us good stuff. My pet peeve is the dogs wanting me to play with them. They seem to think I'm part of their social group, when everyone knows that cats are superior to everything and everyone else. I do NOT play with dogs. I will, however, drink out of their water dish for long periods of time when they want to eat. They won't go near their feeding station if I am there. I enjoy that. Mary and Jo have made me move several times when it's time for those dogs to eat. They eat twice a day, and boy, you better not get anything between that Toby and his food! He eats his entire dinner in less than 30 seconds, then he can barely contain himself hoping to get some of Jia's food.

Mom took me to see that awful vet a few weeks ago. She said you could read print through me. I don't think so, I am black. You can't read through black. The vet said my teeth could stand to be cleaned, but that I was too old to be safely anesthetized so I am at least spared that. The vet said I was amazingly healthy. But they also said that my kidneys weren't working quite as they should anymore. Mom bought me prescription cat food. I hate it. I hate it a lot. Tam is the only one who eats it. He will eat any cat food, but not people food. People food is the best. Tam won't touch it. But he now likes the wet food Mom gives me. I like the cheap brands. Mom is puzzled by this because she always feeds us stuff like Innova Evo and now I want Friskies in the can. The "upscale" brands just don't appeal to me. Mom has bought every one of the brands, and I don't like any of them. Mom says she will feed me whatever I want to eat. This is good, but she doesn't give me enough HAM. I like ham. It's my favorite. But at least she'll feed me those cans of food. It's way cool. They give me food whenever anyone is in the kitchen.

A few weeks ago, Jo was walking the dogs, and when she came home, the neighbor's pit bull ran into our house. I ran right up to him and beat him up. Yeah!! I really did. For some reason, he thought I was playing, but I beat him all over his head and hissed at him, and spit on him. I will not tolerate any more dogs in here. He left. Well, Jo put him outside. But I'm sure he knew he was beaten.

I like it here except for the constant messing around. The house has a lot of stuff that has to be fixed. Right now, they are messing with a door frame. Apparently, the door that mom bought is a "standard" sized door, but it's 4" higher than the door that was there. And they have to fix all the doors here. That one is a "prehung" door, so Lee has to take it all apart and shorten it, or he has to cut the opening higher. He's worried that there is a big beam there. It's annoying to me because it's right off the kitchen, and so I have to put up with all the noise and mess.

Oh, and Mom's back is much better. But now she has carpal tunnel.

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