We had only been living together for a few months when he died. He was living with her parents, as he didn't go with her when she moved into her first town home, and when she and I moved into an apartment together, pets of any kind were discouraged by our landlord.
In 1992, however, DW wanted another pet. She wanted another creature to cuddle, and so we went to the humane society to find a kitten.
There were plenty of cats in the old shelter on Champagne Avenue, and the display room had more than enough kittens. I spied a tiny tabby who lazily curled up on a blanket. "How about that one?" I suggested. My family has had its fair share of cats but we had never had a tabby, and I liked them the most.
The assistant moved to the door to get the tabby, but when she opened the door, a white kitten with grey patches pushed all the other kittens out of the way and tried to make a break from the room, as if to say, "I'm outta here, suckers! These two are my ticket out!"
The tabby hardly lifted its head. It was more concerned with rest than adoption.
DW couldn't help but notice the white and grey cat. The assistant had to pick it up to prevent it from getting loose. "How about that one?" DW asked.
The assistant brought the tiny male cat to DW and it began to purr and rub his head against hers. "Oh, Ross, he's perfect."
We filled out the paperwork, paid the fees, and the cat was ours. We named him Leopold, after the famous conductor Stowkowski, made even more famous by the Bugs Bunny cartoon. We called him Leo, for short.
Leo was an energetic kitten with plenty of affection. He loved to socialize, and would hang out in our living room when we had guests. When DW and I curled up on the sofa to watch TV, Leo would be on one of our laps, often moving from one person to the other, and back.
DW took this photo in the late spring of 1992. Leo is sitting on our bed, looking out at the window, either at a bird or some activity that is occurring on one of the balconies in the neighbouring apartment building.
We had Leo from '92 to 2003, when he developed a kidney disease. Our oldest daughter vaguely remembers the cat, but our youngest was only a few months old when we said our goodbyes.
We really are cat people.
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