Fifteen Years With Tybalt!

While I don't know the exact date, I do know that right about now I'm reaching the anniversary of the first time I ever laid eyes on my little tabby cat Tybalt, and brought him home.  My best guess is that we first met on April 23rd, and he came home a few days later.

I should start by explaining I never thought of myself as a "cat person" for most of my life.  None of my friends when I was growing up had cats, and my family never had cats, only two dogs.  One of my earliest experiences with cats, when I was probably about fourteen or so, did nothing to win me over to the species.  I was visiting my older sister at her house, and was petting her cat Maggie (you Tennessee Williams fans will get that), who seemed perfectly calm.  In a flash, I found myself with a cat, claws out, scrambling up my arm and shoulder to my head, where she launched herself across the room.

Really not a great first impression.

Savannah perched on my desk.

Over time, yes, I met some cats who were nice enough.  My brother had a sweet manx named Savannah that I got to know when we were both back at our parents' house for a while.  I even cat sat for her for a week or so while my brother was away, and got to know and like her pretty well.  Still, over the years, I had few really close and positive interactions with cats.  I, like many others, saw them as mysterious, aloof creatures.  I'll always remember visiting someone's house or apartment who owned a cat, but you'd never, ever know, since they hid the moment you arrived.

Tomas

Then I got to know Tomas.  He was a sweet, big black cat who belonged to a woman I started dating about a year after moving back to the DC area.  He took to me, and I'll admit, I grew quite fond of him.  When we all moved into a house together, it was suggested that I get my own cat, both so I could learn what it's like and to provide a buddy for Tomas.  We talked about it idly, but didn't really make any definite steps.

Then a late April weekend where we had planned a camping trip, and the weather turned nasty... freezing rain and chilling cold.  With camping plans off, we thought we'd go check out a local shelter, and look at cats.  I don't know that either one of us really expected to find one on the first, impromptu trip, but on arrival we met this sweet little tabby kitten named Junior by the shelter.  The shelter had a separate "visitation room" and we took the little guy in there, and he was very friendly and cuddly, not shy at all.  He absolutely won me over right away, so we went to fill out the paperwork to start the adoption process.  As we were standing in line, I overheard the couple next in line talking, and the woman said "his name was Junior, right?" and I realized we weren't the only ones taken by the little fellow.

Paperwork done, all that was required was a house visit to make sure we were going to give him a suitable home.  When the woman came to interview us, Tomas calmly strolled into the middle of the room, plopped himself down, and proceeded to bathe himself.  This made us all laugh and the woman said "well, he's clearly very content here."  So that was that, Junior was mine.

One of my first photos of Tybalt, comfy on my desk.

Upon getting him home, we followed all the good advice about putting him in a room by himself for a while before introducing him to Tomas.  I spent a lot of time just getting to know him, and learning what a smart and playful boy he was.  I also knew I needed to come up with a new name for him, as Junior just wouldn't do.  After trying out a bunch of options in my head, I finally landed on Tybalt, from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.  If you haven't seen or read the play, or seen the amazing Zefferelli film from the 60s, you might not know that another character refers to Tybalt as "rat catcher" and "good king of cats."  It just seemed to suit my new little guy, so that's what I chose.

Snoozing with his buddy Tomas, about a month after coming home.

Prowling the yard.

The funny thing is, for the first few years of his life he was an indoor/outdoor cat, and we learned pretty quickly he really was quite the hunter.  Rodents were not at all safe around our house, and sadly, neither were birds.  He's since become an indoor only cat, which is better both for him and the wildlife.  He did very much enjoy his outdoor time, but it just isn't safe for him or my other cat where I live now.

He's got his eye on that bird outside.

I do have to share one of the funnier aspects of his hunting days early on.   He experimented with a variety of ways to try to wake me up for his breakfast earlier than I wanted to.  Leaping off the headboard onto my chest certainly woke me up... but also got him tossed out of the bed, and not breakfast.  Then one day I was woken by him running around and leaping and pouncing all over the bed.  I opened my eyes, and there he is on the pillow right next to me, with a tiny young mouse pinned under his paw, and he's looking at me like "isn't this cool?"  The mouse still being alive, and me being that kind of person, I managed to get the mouse from him and release it outside.

The next morning... there he was again, running, leaping, pouncing all over the bed.  I open my eyes and he's there on the pillow right next to my head, but no mouse!  The little stinker is looking at me like "Fooled you! Now how about that breakfast?"  Funny thing is, every so often, for the next few years, he would play the same game, and I could never just relax and assume he had no mouse, because I knew all too well what a good mouser he was.  I've lost count of how many times I've found a mouse or even rat he killed.  Luckily, for the last five years or so, there seem to be none where I live.  I'm pretty sure he and my other cat Jinx are the reason for that.

Tybalt in February of 2020, still bright eyed and active.

We've now been together for fifteen years and I couldn't be happier.  He's a sweet, gentle, and very affectionate cat, who likes nothing better than settling down on my lap (where he is right now as I write) or curling up next to me.  He loves naps with me, and at night, as soon as he sees I'm getting ready for bed, he trots into the bedroom and hops into bed with me.  Not a big one for meowing ever, he's got this adorable trill that I love.  He's quite a mellow fellow in his later years, but he'll still play with toys and chase things around, even giving my younger cat Jinx a run for his money.  And I've learned just how wonderful it is to have cats in your life and how easy they are to love.