I have a cat–I know, so do many people, but wait till I tell you about my quirky pet and why he's so annoyingly unforgettable.

What’s so special about MY cat? He thinks he’s a dog. If he could bark, he would. Sometimes his meow sounds a little on the “rough” side.

He has outlived three dogs, and one other cat and is now the proud “owner” of a new dog - our golden doodle, Abbey.

   

This is Abbey

Thomas with Levi our Australian Shepherd  

                                           

                                            Thomas with Sheba, a border collie x shepherd

                                   

This is Winnie - a calico.  She and Thomas did not get along so I don't have any pictures except the one where he's tormenting her on her last day on earth. He wanted her bed.  

                                    

Thomas was found on the Bruce Trail–somewhere along the path over Rattlesnake Point. (Some of you have read about my walks in the woods along the Bruce Trail.)

I can’t imagine how people can thoughtlessly abandon a litter of kittens and leave them to the elements. Thankfully he wasn’t eaten by coyotes.  The litter was found by some hikers, without the mother, and were brought to a shelter.  This is where we found Thomas. He was the last one--a feisty but affectionate loud purring mackerel Tabby--grey with vertical, curving stripes on the side of his body.  He was friendly with a PICK ME attitude. And so, we did.

Finding a name for our adorable rescue kitten was tough. I wanted to call him Bruce, after the trail but it didn’t suit him. I tried it out for a couple of days. Then I tried Fred and then Eugene. Neither of those fit him either. I stared at him. He looked very elegant and formal. I could picture him in a black bow tie.The name Thomas came to mind and when I said it aloud it sounded just perfect.  He was happy with it. The only problem he had from the get-go was bad case of ring worm. It was everywhere on his body even between his little toes and foot pads. He infected my husband. Thomas liked to climb up inside his shirt so it wasn’t surprising that my husband ended up with the tell-tale ring. 

Thomas is the Capo dei Capi, or boss of bosses, of everyone and everything in the house, or so he thinks. He bosses Abbey around. She has to get off of “her” chair so he can sit there. When she is drinking water, he comes running from wherever he is in the house and nudges her away from the bowl.  I suppose he deserves some respect as elder. 

When Abbey is out in the yard, Thomas meows to let us know she wants in, or more likely HE wants her in. When she gets her treat, Thomas sits and waits for HIS treat and of course meows because he's entitled and expects to be fed first.  

On arriving home after walking the dog, Thomas is extremely cranky and grumbles about how unfair he’s being treated and complains about being left home alone. 

He's very vocal about his needs. On and on he'll continue until he’s coddled or we guess what he wants.

His personality 

• He loves to play ball. He actually retrieves! 
• He hates closed doors - he has bent our closet door from pawing it open.
• He doesn’t like to be told “no” - and what a racket he makes getting in the last word! 
• He hates being cold. Complains like an old man, and then stomps off to sit on a heat vent.
• He owns every chair in the house even though he has an igloo to sleep in which is perched in a premium spot in the house - the top of the stairs on the landing. He can see the whole house from there.
• He yells at the neighbour's cats from our front window–he spots them in their house. He believes he’s boss of them as well.
• With his list of hates he may be up for the annual grumpy cat award. 
• Sometimes he gives me “hell” eyes if I don’t allow him to do what he wants. 
• He’s friends with a chipmunk in the summer - Alvin, we call him - I know, original.  Thomas waits at the screen door for him every day. Alvin comes by and sits on the other side. They stare, he goes away and Thomas’ day is made. 
• He doesn’t like things left out of place. If the phone or any other object is not where it should be, he checks it out, and then swats it to the floor. And of course meows to express his disapproval. 

Thomas is getting old. He’s 11 years old now. In human years that’s 77 by some calculations or he’s equal to 66 by another (25 years for the first 2 years then 4 years for each after that). He’s officially a senior and like most seniors has gained girth. 

One day recently he got stuck in his cat door–we removed one side of the frame to help but then he got stuck again and took the frame with him on his body. He looked at me again with "hell" eyes as if to say, "Get this off of me." I wish I had my camera ready for that one! 

His food is now limited to low cal.  And yes, he complains about the taste. He's also started snoring lately and LOUD. 

He is exasperating, a real character but I love him. 

I hope through this post you have come to appreciate some of the unique traits of tabbies and how Thomas escaped the wilderness and found his way into my heart.

The term tabby cat, "one with a striped coat", is attested from the 1690s; the shortened form tabby was first attested in 1774. The idea of "female cat" (1826) may be influenced by the feminine proper name Tabby, a pet form of Tabitha, which was used in the late 18th century as slang for a "difficult old woman”. - source Wikipedia 

The Mackerel tabby pattern has vertical, gently curving stripes on the side of the body. The stripes are narrow and may be continuous or broken into bars and spots on the flanks and stomach. An "M" shape appears on the forehead along with dark lines across the cat's cheeks to the corners of its eyes. - source Wikipedia

Here's looking at you kid!!!!

Source - all photos original @countrygirl