kittens into the house). The vet basically said, "This cat is in good shape; he's been eating somehow. He's about five months old." His right eye was in a near-constant squint, so she gave me some cream for it and sent me home.Hoping the cat had been sneaking into the SPCA next door, but realizing he could still be somebody's cat, I put him back into the carrier and set off back to the cemetery. I crossed the street to the first house.
Nope, never seen the cat before. "Keep him! Take him home!" she exclaimed.
The next house had a woman and what I believe was her son. He was of the age that he might still be in school, or he might just be a "challenged" adult. I didn't inquire. They eyed the cat, and shook their heads. "Take him home! That's how we got our dog! He just showed up on our doorstep!"
Geez, I guess this "They choose you" thing is for real in the country.
I crossed to the other side of the street, and approached another woman. Nope, never seen him. "Keep him!" she said. Seems there's a theme....
Lastly, I stopped at the corner house, one of these interesting houses you see in New Zealand where people have a big yard and just make it their own. There are usually such a hodge podge of trees (fruit, ornamental, native), various vegetables and flowers growing in random places, a path cut out that might lead to nowhere. I just love them. The place we're staying at now has the same kind of set-up.
It was an old woman, bent over her garden toward the back. Not wanting to enter her yard and spook her, I called from the
gate. "Hello, hello, ma'am?" Nothing. I raised my voice. Nothing. I opened her gate and walked slowly toward her, calling out. I was really afraid of scaring what few years she had left out of her. Finally, she looked up and I asked her about the cat.A half hour went by where she talked a little bit about everything else, including her house which she was selling. She even went into the house and brought out the assessor's letter on her house -- a 3 bedroom with a big yard for only $180,000 (about $95,000 USD). Not bad!
She was such a sweet, old lady, I didn't mind. But eventually, I did need to know if she knew Grey Matter.
She knew him. She had seen him walking around the cemetery for quite some time. "Sometimes he crosses the road and sits on my fence. I talk to him."
Awww.
But he wasn't "hers." She didn't think he was anyone's cat. Okay, I'd had enough, he was coming home with me. Now we just needed a name -- something I approach with great seriousness. I considered Loki, from the naughty Norse god, and a couple other cutsie names. In the meantime, I was calling him things like "Grey Matter" and "Little Man."
Finally, we settled on the name I had picked from the beginning: Claus von Stauffenberg. For those not familiar, he was the German Nazi during WWII who was part of the German resistance, and o
ne of the main players in one of a billion failed assassination attempts on Hitler. And like my kitty, he had only one workable eye.Also, we had just seen Valkyrie in Auckland about a week before and had been surprised by how much we liked it, especially since we didn't think it had done all that well at the box office. I guess all the press around Tom Cruise's ridiculous antics over the past few years really did hurt him (as they did for Mel Gibson's Apocalypto, which was also a pretty good movie).
AND Valkyrie has a great cast (Bill Nighy! Kenneth Branagh! Tom Wilkinson!). Deliciously tense and occassionally tender, it's a good film, despite the fact you know the ending.
About a week later, after many forced squirts of eye goop into the kitty's eye, he no longer resembled his namesake. But it's just fun to call out "Claus von Stauffenberg" and to see a little grey furball barreling toward you.
I'm sure the real Claus would be deeply honored.
And now he's officially ours. Two SPCA adoptions and one stray, ALL under 2 years old. I feel a little guilty about that, since I believe in trying to get adults, but as they say, "You don't pick them, they pick you."
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