Yoda came into my life as a wee kitten. My roomate, Lindsey, got him from a friend who was giving kittens away. His ears were so big on that little head, hence his name. He was a feisty little guy, always getting in trouble. Not long after he came to live with us, he appeared one day missing a piece of his ear. No idea what happened for sure, but we think he ended up under a chair leg... we had many visitors and everyone liked to lean back in their chair at the table. That's the only scenario we could come up with, so it stuck. Not long after that, he met and my foot met during a mad dash out of the kitchen. The result was his upper lip being impaled on two of his teeth... after a quick visit to the vet and a little sedative, his handsome face was good as new.
After a year or so, Lindsey, Yoda and myself moved from the great town of Wise to Big Stone Gap. There, we inherited Belle, a weiner dog, and Samson, another older and wiser cat. Soon, we aquired yet another kitty, sweet little Oli. Yoda and Oli became the best of friends... one big and one little black furball wreaking havoc all over the house. There were few dull moments. Ah, the good ol' days, right Lindsey?!
Eventually, Anthony and I decided to move in together and I left the house. I wanted to ask for Yoda (I don't think I ever told Lindsey that), but felt like it would be terribly selfish of me. He and I had bonded, but he was still Lindsey's cat. Fate stepped in when Lindsey moved to D.C. and couldn't take any of the pets with her. Oli and Samson were adopted, Belle went back to live with Lindsey's mom, and Lindsey called to see if I wanted Yoda. *cue the angels singing* So, Yoda and I were reunited.
Yoda came to live with Anthony and I, along with Pacino and Sicilia, and it was like we were never apart. Later we moved to an apartment in Abingdon... some good Yoda memories originated there. Nearly all of our visitors were terrified of him. He was a big, black cat. He was loud and in your face. He wasn't afraid of anything, and if he didn't like you he'd make you cry, run or bleed... sometimes all three. Overnight visitors always went upstairs to find Yoda waiting patiently on the bed (or sometimes in their bag) for them to come up... and this meeting was always followed by, "Manda, will you come get Yoda? He won't let me get my stuff."
Vet's and Yoda did not mix. A visit to the Pound vet's office once found me sitting in the waiting room, listening to all hell breaking loose in the back. As I sat there thinking, "Man, I hope that's not Yoda," a door opens and out walks a nurse, blood dripping down her arm, saying, "Um, we need that carrier." Abingdon vet's were no different. I once saw a woman who could have easily weighed three times as much as me lay on top of him to try and let the doctor check his temperature. No temperature was read, and I saw a 14 pound cat turn into a 300 pound black panther in a matter of seconds. Everyone was afraid to go near him. I finally wrangled him back in the carrier, brought him home, and out he came purring and rubbing on my leg like nothing had happened. His final days let me bear witness to an especially gratifying vet attack. I won't go into detail because it will just make me mad, but rest assured he deserved everything Yoda gave him.
Though many people only remember his bites, loud mewls in their face and the overwhelming sense of fear he made them feel, I remember these.... I remember the way he sucked on his foot from the time he was a kitten to probably 2-3 years of age, so much that the hair on his foot actually turned from black to brown. I remember the way he always insisted on sleeping nuzzled in my neck whenever he was allowed to sleep in the bed at night. I remember hearing his muffled meows as he climbed the stairs carrying his crab or moo-moo to drop outside the bedroom door as payment to be allowed to come in... followed by the sound of padded feet scratching at the door as fast as they could move to make sure I knew he was out there. I remember how he high-stepped whenever he got to go outside, as if the grass was something so foreign he wasn't sure if it was safe to walk on or not. I remember the awesome back rubs he would give me whenever I sat in the computer chair, buttering me up before he came and jumped on my lap, standing up with feet on either side of my head to look me in the face and rub that wet nose on my chin. And I remember the last hour I spent with him, tongue stuck out from being loopy on sedatives, still rubbing on my chin. I remember how he smelled, how soft his hair was, and the even softer bald spot on his belly where allergies had made his hair fall out. I remember those big green eyes and the love I saw in them everytime I looked at him, even if I'd scolded him for something 2 seconds earlier. Those are the things I remember tonight, and probably always will.
.JPG)
