Shamus

I was born into a family with pets. Growing up, we had horses, snakes, dogs, birds, rabbits, rats, fish, sheep, a tarantula, hermit crabs, and cats. I was always fondest of the dogs, horses, and cats. Living in Wyoming, we had a barn cat named Brownie-Bluey (I just realized that I have no idea how to spell her name) who was technically Rusty's. I was allowed to pick out a kitten to become our second barn cat, and I chose a kitten I named Blueberry (what was with the Beall kids and color-related names?). Our cats couldn't live in the house because Dad was allergic, so Blueberry's future with our family was uncertain when neighborhood cats were stealing her food. As a last resort, Dad said we could try having Blueberry in the house, but if his allergies were too severe, she would have to leave. It turned out that Dad's allergies weren't overly severe, and Blueberry became our indoor-outdoor cat. She was just a young thing when she got "knocked up" by some Tom cat in the neighborhood, and suddenly we had a litter of kittens, of which Rusty and I were each allowed to keep one. Our parents were nuts! Rusty named his gray kitten Rascal, and I named my black and gray kitten Bubbles. The kittens were lots of fun, chasing each other all around the house, until a sad day when they climbed some speakers. The speakers fell and Bubbles was crushed, leaving her with severe brain damage. From there on out, Rusty and I shared Rascal.

Our cats were always really nice, but they spent the majority of their time outdoors and had typical aloof, independent cat tendencies. Blueberry, in particular, was an excellent hunter, frequently showing up at the back door with some sort of "gift" for the family. Dad gratefully accepted her offer one day, and we had a dinner of fresh-caught pheasant that evening.

Though I had always loved cats, I really had no idea just how vibrant, social, and loving they could be... until I met a cat named Shamus.

When I moved in with Ted, Shamus had been his cat for over 10 years. Shamus welcomed me immediately, and greeted me at the door every day when I came home. I was shocked at his dog-like personality! He loved people and would seek attention from anyone who came to the apartment, trotting to them with a friendly meow. Every cat I had known previously would shy away from any stranger, but not Shamus. To him, the more people he had around, the happier he was. At a party we had once, he was on the food table attempting to get attention. At night time, he would straddle Ted's leg while we watched TV, and he would go to bed with us at night, lying on one of our chests.



Shamus thought my curly hair was awesome, especially during the middle of the night. He would paw, chew, and pull on it until I would cover my head with the covers. At that point, he would move to Ted, very gently pawing Ted's face until he was awake. He was too sweet to be too upset with. Afterall, he only wanted attention from his people.

Water was the greatest thing to Shamus, and he preferred to do his drinking from the bathroom faucet. This habit had begun early on when Ted had him at an apartment with a leaky faucet. He would sleep in the sink until one of us would walk by, jumping up quickly and meowing to ask us to kindly turn the faucet to a drip, and we would always oblige. Water glasses were not safe from Shamus, as he would knock them over at any opportunity.

Ted warned me early on that I needed to keep the bedroom door shut, and a long piece of plywood had to be placed on the living room sofa when I left the house. See, Shamus had a bit of a pooping problem. He would poop on the furniture when no one was home. It had been quite some time since Ted had even attempted leaving the door open or the sofa uncovered, so I decided it was time for Shamus to be given a fair chance. I petted his little head when I left, telling him I knew I could count on him. I arrived home to a poop-stained mattress. Gradually, though, Shamus did stop pooping on furniture. He was still quite particular about having a clean litter box, and would poop right next to the box if it was not up to his standards, but who could blame him? Everyone likes a clean bowl.

In 2005, we decided to get a kitten. I picked out a calico and named her Pazza. We were concerned about how an old cat like Shamus would accept a brand new kitten, but we were hopeful that things would work out okay for everyone. Ted drove over 8 hours to pick up Pazza, arriving home with a tiny, fluffy, ball of fur. As always, Shamus was there to greet Ted when he came in the door. Ted placed Pazza in the middle of the floor and she immediately ran to Shamus, playfully. Shamus took one look at her, hissed, and flew up the stairs. This was not what we had hoped for. We tried to comfort Shamus, but he wanted nothing to do with us or the kitten. He would not let us pet him, or even get close to him, and he refused to eat. Ted and I were both concerned and wondered how this was going to work.

After a few days, Shamus gradually began to warm up to Pazza, and they eventually began playing. Soon, he had adopted her as his little buddy, and they were curling up on the sofa together. We missed some of the old behaviors of Shamus, but it became obvious that the kitten was going to be good for him in many ways. It did not take long for Shamus and Pazza to be best friends, which is testament to what an amazing cat Shamus was. How many 12 year old cats welcome, and become best friends with, a kitten in a matter of days? Watching them play and wrestle was amazing, and Pazza was definitely keeping Shamus young.



In 2006, a test was thrown at Shamus and Pazza when we adopted Hitcher, the Coonhound. Once again, we were unsure how the cats would react to a new animal, and especially a dog. Both cats were unsure, but reacted pretty well to us. Being a Coonhound, Hitcher's instinct was to chase the kitties, but Ted quickly broke him of that, tackling him to the floor. As Hitcher realized he could not chase the cats, Shamus became more and more brave and began standing his ground. While Pazza would still flee at the slightest sound or sight of dog, Shamus did not run, letting Hitcher check him out. It became clear that Hitcher desired to cuddle with Shamus on the sofa, but Shamus would leave whenever Hitcher would join him. One day, some animal understanding was reached and we found Shamus and Hitcher sleeping next to each other on the sofa. It was awesome. To see the old cat trusting the boisterous dog who had "hunted" him was amazing. To this day, Pazza still does not trust Hitcher, but Shamus trusted him in a matter of months.



Shamus began getting obviously older in his last few years, but he kept ticking despite some health scares. He never lost his personality, his grace, or his joy for life, which is more than can be said for many people. I doubt I will ever know a cat as regal, laid-back, friendly, and personable as Shamus was. If I have that blessing again, I will be very lucky. He loved plastic bags, water from faucets, shoes, to play fetch, Pazza, cold floors, sips of beer, people, and, I'd like to think, Hitcher. Most of all he loved Ted.