When we brought Hamilton home a few years ago, the animal shelter could tell us very little about the guy. He had been picked up by the shelter, a stray in horrible condition: skin and bones, declawed at some point in the past, but obviously running wild for a long time. They knew this by his low weight, but also because he had worms, ear mites, fleas, you name it. It took them several weeks of tender care before they could put him up for adoption.
We had just lost Eclipse, Ben's cat of many years. He had sort of become my cat after Ben left home, so I was missing his nightly visits under my legs as I sat at my computer. Soon after Eclipse's death, Warren gently nudged me to the shelter to meet a new cat.
We walked into the shelter's "Visitation Room." Bare room, windows out into the hall, shiny gray-painted concrete floor. Nothing else. An attendant brought this cat into the room. I sat down on the cold concrete and took at look at him. He was a beautiful tri-color, mostly brown and gold, very tiger-like, if you know that black and gold are Mizzou's colors. (At this time we lived in Columbia, MO--home of the Missouri Tigers.) The attendant closed the door. Warren stood off at the side of the room and let us get acquainted.
Hamilton, who had no name at the time, climbed right into my lap. I fell in love. It was that quick. Eclipse had been a rather stand-offish type of cat. Never sat in any one's lap, ever. So when this brown and orange cat with a thinnish, striped tail, climbed right into my stranger's lap, I was pretty much a "goner."
We paid the fees and took him home. Within a few minutes of his arrival, I "knew" his name was Hamilton.
Before long, we felt we had pieced together Hamilton's past. This is all imaginary, mind you, because we have very little to go on, but I'm pretty sure we've got the main details spot-on.
He was declawed when we got him. And very affectionate. Climbed right up on my chest the first night and sat down and accepted my petting. So I think he was once very loved by someone. Declawing is tough on a cat but costs money, which implies somebody cared. His loving nature implies that he was well-treated.
BUT he was found emaciated, wormy, flea-ridden, mite-ridden... So something BAD must have happened. He got out and didn't come back, but that doesn't seem right, because he is so loving, so I think he got lost. Or maybe his person was an older, retired type who died or was moved into a nursing home and Hamilton somehow got separated and was out on his own with nowhere to go. You are welcome to think up your own scenario, but I like my old lady story the best.
When we got Hamilton, I didn't want him to EVER go outside again. It's a big, bad world out there, and with his being out for so long, I worried he would never come home to me and couldn't bear that thought. So Hammy stayed in for many months. And we got to be the best of friends.
But come spring, Hammy got insistent that we let him out, so eventually we did. And his favorite routine, still is, actually, was to leave after dark, run and hide somewhere, and come home before dawn, let in by Warren, who gets up early so he can get to his Morning Drive Radio Show.
If Warren missed letting him in, which happened on weekends sometime, Hammy would not come in if it was light out, still won't. It's as if he is frighted by the sunlight. This makes me think he hid a lot after he was abandoned. We found his favorite place up in Columbia was in the sewer down the street. Well, not really a sewer, more like a storm drain. Once we knew where he hid, we could coax him out of there with a can of messy, smelly cat food if we were very patient.
So I think he was very traumatized by being lost and alone in the big, bad world. And very happy to finally find a family that would take him in and love him. And the reason I know this is because Hamilton
never purred when he first joined our house. It was as if the purr was scared right out of him by his experiences in the cruel world. It took a couple of years for him to find his purr again. It was quite the moment when I first heard that purr, I can tell you. Quite the day.
Now, Hammy is giving me the "signal" that it is time for his nightly routine. He hasn't started talking to me yet, but he's winding up for quite the performance. So, it's off to the door for "The Goodbye Song and Dance." My favorite time of the day!
