I have never chosen orange cats – and I was never even particularly drawn to orangies. They just come to me for help.
In university, a boyfriend accepted two cats from his sister who could no longer keep them. A brother and sister. His student-home was not the best for cats –but he fed and loved them. He was on the ground floor so they would be able to access the back alley from the window. They were fixed so all was good. One was an orangie named Cinnamon. I loved him immediately (my first love) … and was pretty devastated when he went missing the next year. I walked the streets tearily calling his name for days. He was such a friendly cat, I can only hope someone took him.
Orangie two was a sad story. I lived in a tiny apartment with yard access for our two calicos. Suddenly an orange cat kept hanging around. He’d keep following my Mouci and she’d turn and hiss at him. He’d shrink back. I chased him away more than once and threw water at him. Suddenly a few days later, I thought maybe he was lost. I threw a treat his way and he went bonkers looking for it. Lets face it – any cat will eat treats. So in a light drizzle, I went inside and got a scoop of cat food and put it on the walkway. He was so hungry! From then on, he lived in the yard… being fed by me each day. I set up a little shelter under our BBQ for him – food, water and a little perch. He was so loving and just wanted to sit on my lap and be petted – inside my cats were acting up and wrecking things. We put up posters and canvassed the neighbourhood only to find that some cruel people had abandoned him when they moved away. From what I learned, being abandoned was the best thing that had happened to him. He was on our deck for about a month… I couldn’t take him in and I couldn’t leave him. We were going on vacation so we took him to the Toronto Humane Society and told them we wanted to know how he was doing and that we would try to find him a home. I’m sure they thought he was actually my cat since I was sobbing as we handed him over. They never called… but when we called 3 weeks later, they said he’d been adopted.
Orangie three I knew for about 25 minutes. That’s it. But I remember him forever. I named him Pumpkin and he is a barn cat who asked to come home with me. I think I would have obliged except it was so fast and I had nothing to bring him home in (a 1.5 hour drive). He was in an area where I know he’d live a very tough life. He was only about 6-7 months old and he followed me everywhere when I went to buy pumpkins at a farm. You’ll know him… the photo of me on the ‘About’ page is with him.
Orangie four was Nuala’s mom. She came to us as a foster pregnant stray. I named her Cinnamon after the first orangie I loved. She looked identical to Nuala… just less white around her mouth. She was so scared at first to be in our bathroom (aka foster room). She loved me and I loved her immediately. It broke my heart when she died when the litter was 9 weeks old. She needed an operation to fix her dislocated hip (genetic they think – brought on by the birthing) and she died as soon as the anesthetic was administered. She likely had a weak heart. I cried a river and I will never again name a cat Cinnamon.
Orangie five would be Saffron. I never planned to keep a kitten and we didn’t specifically pick Saffron. She was the last to get adopted – at a disadvantage since (after their litter’s ringworm) she was not allowed in a pet store and the little rescue we fostered for had no online presence. There were a number of requests for her that the rescue did not approve. She had stayed with us a month after Paprika and Ginger left… and we just caved. Boom… Saffron became Nuala and took over our lives. Don’t tell her she’s not our natural child…
Orangie 6. Oscar. Well, you know the story which began with feeding 2 years ago and in this blog starting early November. I will tell you this – if it were not for our beautiful sad Shadow, he’d stay. I’d train him and integrate him… he is gorgeous and an utter love bug.