Eulogy for Artie Atkins

When Liz sent out an email with a list of adults needing fosters, I picked Artie simply because he was first on the list. I believe my response was, “I can take Artie, or whoever you want me to.” I had no idea how beloved he was. I didn’t even realize he was the clinic mascot for years. When I told OAR-ers I had Artie at home, there was always instant warmth and recognition. I enjoyed having a celebrity in my midst. When I talked to Jane, she said, “I can’t believe you have Artie” more than once.

Artie loved snuggles. He wasn’t exactly a lap cat, but if you picked him up and put his paws on your shoulder, he would snuggle his head against your cheek and serenade you with his raspy purr directly into your ear.

He loved to find a new resting spot every few days. The laundry basket, the open dryer, the kitchen floor, a different chair. It was a kitty version of hide and seek. And since he wasn’t particularly interested in coming when he was called, it sometimes went on for a while.

Artie didn’t exactly get along with my cats, be he never got in their way. He was very good at completely ignoring them, as though they held no interest to him. As if they were a different species altogether, and beneath his notice. Maybe he thought he was human. Once in a while, Blackberry would chase him around the house. While I’m fairly certain Blackberry was playing, I’m not sure Artie knew that. Artie would sometimes bat at one of my foster kittens, but, hey, those little buggers can be annoying, can’t they?

Mr. Atkins wasn’t the brightest kitty I’ve known. After a few days in isolation in our basement foster room, I let him out to explore. He was not intimidated by our sprawling basement. He came right out and began to explore. But he never tackled the stairs. Even when we were all on the main floor, and he was alone in the quiet bowels of the house, he was content to stay in his space. Finally it occurred to me – he did not know how to use the stairs! The clinic was all one floor, and who knows where he’d been before. After several days passed, I decided this sweet, gentle soul needed to join our family upstairs. Can you teach an old cat new tricks? Not easily. First I carried him upstairs. He explored a bit, but then sat staring perplexedly down at his old haunt. He didn’t even consider putting one paw in that direction. Next I placed him two stairs down. This he did not like. After a brief deliberation, he reluctantly moved up the two stairs. I swear it’s the first time I saw a cat look proud of himself; but it wouldn’t be the last. Artie never did like to go down the stairs. But if I carried him to the basement, he would turn around and shoot back up, faster than you would expect from an old guy. Once he discovered the wonders of the main floor, he had no more use for the boring old basement (or its litter boxes, unfortunately)

Soon after he moved upstairs, we showed Artie our screened-in porch. He was intrigued, but completely flummoxed by the cat door leading from the den to the porch. I pushed him through that flap more times than I can count. No luck. They mystery of that moveable flap was simply beyond him. So I would let him out on the porch, and there he would stay, lounging on the back of the porch sofa, until I let him back in. This went on for weeks. We had both given up on the cat door. Then one day, while I was making dinner in the kitchen, I heard the flap swing closed. Both of my cats were under my feet. WTH? I ran into the den. “Artie!? You figured it out!” There was that look again. That cat was so damned proud of himself. Artie used the door often after that, and each time he pranced through with smug satisfaction.

Artie didn’t walk – he pranced. I often wondered if his paws were sensitive, and he was trying to keep pressure off of them. His gait reminded me of a show pony, or a young preschooler playing “The floor is lava.”

Artie would sit in the kitchen, just staring into space. He wouldn’t beg, or wind around my legs, or lay down, or move. He would just sit. And stare. I’ve never felt so fascinating. I’m not sure if he wanted food, or if he just sensed that the kitchen is a house’s natural gathering place. If I left the room, he would just stay, and stare at the cabinets instead. If I gave him canned food, he might eat it, or he might not. Apparently food was not the goal of the staring game.

Artie wasn’t exactly a picky eater, but just when I stocked up on what I was sure was his favorite food, his taste would change. “Sorry, sucka, I’m tired of that one.” And the search would start again. “Baby Food? Eh, that’s so last week. Tuna? Maybe every other Monday, but not today. Fancy Feast? Okay, I’ll accept it. For now.” Artie would eat in bursts. Small bursts. Tiny bursts. A couple bites, and then he was back to staring. If I picked up his bowl, scooped the mixture into a central lump, and put it back on the floor, I would be rewarded with another few bites. I’m not normally a patient person, but that cat needed every calorie he could get. When we had foster kittens, the kittens would come steal his food, and Artie would politely back away and watch. I moved him to the bathroom (or the porch) to rescue him from the pesky critters. This also removed his temptation to stop and stare at me.

Along with changing up his hiding spots, Artie liked to pee in various locales. When I put a litter box in his favorite potty spot in the dining room, he moved on to the porch. When I put a stack of towels for him there, he used them for a bit, then moved on to the porch couch. His final trick was to pee down the air conditioning vent. I’m not sure why cold, hard metal tempted him to squat, but I give him points for creativity.

My kids loved how Artie would stick his tongue out, like he was working out a difficult problem. And how he would spend his lap time licking your pants, like they were made of tuna. We all loved his gentle old soul, and his endearing quirks. We were honored to have him in our lives, even for only a few months. RIP Artie Atkins.

Artie in the dryer:



Artie with a kitten look-alike:


Kittens stealing his food:


Cuddle time - not so cuddly, but definitely licking:

Winters Tale

Wow, did I hate this book. I guess it is classified as a "classic", but I would have to disagree. I found the writing to be super-dry, the characters to be very one-dimensional, and the plot to be way less than compelling. I suppose something kept me reading, but I'm not sure what it was. Also, the use of magic was just so random. It seems like most "sci-fi" or "fantasy" choose one or two "magical themes". But with this book they just crept up randomly.

At least with the movie the plot was a little more cohesive, and Pearly Soames was named directly as the devil's servant. I usually like Russell Crowe, but I guess Soames was just too weird. The use of Will Smith as the devil made me chuckle. Colin Ferrell was fine as Peter Lake. But I wish they would have given him a better haircut. Also, I'm not sure about the theme of everyone getting "one miracle". If that was in the book, I guess I missed it.

Holes

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this book. Cameron and I read it because he liked Sachar's "Sideways School". I really did not enjoy that one. But Holes was a great story, with two parts of history joining together with a satisfying ending. The movie captured all the messages of the book, along with adding some humor. The two main actors did a great job. Sigourney Weaver was perfect.

I believe the way "Kissing Kate" died in the book was slightly different to how she died in the movie. Also, in the movie the warden and her two henchman get arrested. This was very satisfying, and was not in the book.

Winters Bone

Instead of 2 boys, one is a girl. They have a trampoline.

Must Love Dogs

Pretty similar. The date with her dad was funny. Jake had a completely different job. Dr Zhivago was not in the book. A little more trouble getting back together. Same big family. Same idea with the dogs. Loved Stockard Channing. The gay friends in the movie were a nice touch.

Dexter, season 2

Very different from the book. The term "dark passenger" does get introduced. The nosy cop gets killed. I wonder who will be Dexters antagonist next season. His sister falls for a much older cop. That is not in the book at all.

Warm Bodies

I really enjoyed this book. It was much more than a zombie/horror story. It is about adjusting to a new world, and never giving up hope. The movie was pretty true to the book.