My Cat 12
I’m a bit late for yesterday’s Daily Create, but when I saw the assignment was based around the theme of 12 I couldn’t resist. I have a long love affair with the number 12, I was born on the 12th and I also loved Terry Bradshaw growing up. What’s more, it has always seemed like one of the foundational numbers of Western Civilization akin to three or seven: the 12 disciples of Christ, 12 months in a year, the 12 labors of Hercules, etc. Fact is, 12 is not a throwaway number, it has real cultural gravity. So, it makes sense that since my early twenties I wanted to name my first child 12. Not twelve, but 12—it had to be numeric.
But (and some would say thankfully) that never happened, not because I wouldn’t have named my first kid 12, but because before I could fate got in the way. I found a stray cat rolling around on the sidewalk outside my apartment in Brooklyn in the Fall of 1998. I never owned my own pet before, and the neighborhood kids were begging me to give her a home. Beign the sap that I am, I did. What’s more, I named her 12. Not only sparing my first child that cruel fate, but also creating a deep link between man and feline that is still going strong. Twelve never seems to age, I took the above image of her basking in the morning sun on my blogging chair in the den.
I dig 12. She was never a particularly affectionate cat, on the contrary she spent much of the first three or four years of our relationship attacking me. Despite this she has been a loyal companion, and has been a constant in some of the most awesome and painful moments of my life over the last fifteen years. She was there when I was married, when my mom died, when my three kids were born. What’s more, she makes the list when my youngest lists who’s who in our family—12 is not a just number, she’s a free cat! So, when seeing yesterday’s Daily Create I had to take the occasion to capture her presence amongst us. She’s been with me for so long now I’m afraid I’ve started to take her for granted. I don’t want to, because I know I’m gonna miss it when she finally decides to join all the other cats in that great internet in the sky.
Always amazed how much 12 looks like our Cleo – http://www.flickr.com/photos/andyrush/6831303987
It’s uncanny, they almost have the same pose which makes it that much crazier. It’s weird to get mushy over my cat in the comments of the bava, 12 would find me weak š
12 is 15 and that is awesome. That is one transparent cat, I can barely recall even noticing it much in the 6 months I was there.
She spends most of her time in my room or the den. What’s more, unlike Clyde, she keeps clear of everyone, especially the kids, which is why it’ s a little weird Tommy should count her amongst the family š
Thanks for sharing this great photo. Nice reminder that even a casual photo assignment can be an opportunity to invite others in to hear a story or meet someone who is important to us.
Great post, Jim. I have a 13 year old cat that was with me when it was just her and me in an apartment. Like 12, she was there for marriage, birth of kids, etc. I too worry I take her for granted now. Well, she’s getting some extra attention today thanks to the bava!
What a lovely cat. 12 was definitely a headmistress in a former life. She reminds me of one who used to sit on the edge of the desk, peer over her glasses, spit and say “miserable wretches”.
As usual in my comments, I offer you this tangentially related aside – Toxoplasma gondii.