November 14 is a very special day in our household. It’s the day that Clancy came home to us.
It was roughly six weeks after Charlie and I had lost our beloved Simon Sebastien. Simon was my soul kitty and Charlie absolutely worshipped his big brother from the moment they met. When we lost Simon to intestinal lymphoma, my plan did NOT include adopting another cat. Hell, I couldn’t eve go buy cat food without having a complete breakdown in the store (shout out to the Pet Food Express crew for being so kind and understanding).
But after about two weeks, it was becoming clear that Charlie needed another kitty buddy. Being alone all day while I was at work was so hard on him. Although I knew I was still in no shape to look for a cat to adopt, I did notice that Island Cat Resources and Adoption (from whom I adopted nearly all of my cats) had a volunteer at Pet Food Express sitting with a rather handsome orange and white kitty. Being a blubbering mess, I made a mental note to contact ICRA when I was…not such a mess.
I remembered that ICRA had adoption events every Saturday at the local Petco, so I headed down there the following weekend. I talked with the president of the organization—she was the person who first put Simon in my arms and understood the mindspace I was in at the time. I told her about the handsome fella I saw at Pet Food Express the prior week and she opened Clancy’s enclosure for a quick meet and greet.
I was there for several hours: M (who had also introduced me to Charlie a couple years earlier) handed me a LOT of adorable cats and kittens, most of them orange tabbies, since I had mentioned wanting to adopt one. But I kept coming back to Clancy. Something in me just knew he was meant for our family. To this day, I swear that Simon’s spirit brought us together because he knew he would be a great companion for me and the perfect brother for Charlie.
Before the adoption could go through, there was the formality of meeting Clancy in his foster home, so we set up an appointment for the following Wednesday. His foster family—a Latina woman and her adult daughter—was absolutely lovely. They lived in the Fruitvale neighborhood in Oakland and the woman looked after the feral colony that hung out at the Church’s (or was it Popeyes?) Chicken. One day she noticed a handsome, friendly male orange tabby had joined the colony. She quickly realized that he was far too friendly to be hanging out with feral cats. She made a plan to rescue him from the colony and contact ICRA, since she already had a relationship with the group.
The following evening, she returned with food for the ferals and a pillow case (this saintly lady owned neither a cat carrier or a vehicle). She enticed this sweet ginger boy with some food, then unceremoniously scooped him up in the pillow case! As she started to walk home with a confused cat writhing around in the pillow case, M, who also checked in on the colony periodically, was driving by. M noted the wiggling pillow case and asked about it. “It’s a cat!” M, being the president of a cat rescue, always had a carrier in the back of her car, so Clancy was quickly transferred to the carrier and M took him over to Fix Our Ferals.
SIDE NOTE: I’m pretty sure that this was Clancy’s first visit to a vet. Why? Because the vet noted that he was a “nice cat.” Which he IS, but not when he’s at the vet. So my guess is that, given his un-neutered state, he had never been to a vet before. And if his first visit to a vet resulted in getting the Big Snip, well, no wonder he gets Ghost-Pepper-Spicy at vet visits now!
So, that’s how Clancy ended up under the care of ICRA and how we came to meet. The meet and greet with his foster family went really well. His foster mom, bless her, was so anxious for Clancy to find a home that she would give him a bath before Petco/Pet Food Express events and before my meet and greet. (Clancy is NOT a fan of the bath.) I hugged Clancy on my lap and quietly promised him he would never have another bath again (unless it was absolutely necessary). His foster mom and I contacted M to let her know we were a go for adoption, and two days later, M brought Clancy home.
I’d love to report that he and Charlie became instant BFFs, but that’s not quite what happened. Clancy was friendly and calm enough, but Charlie through hissy-spit fits and growled. I understood why: it had nothing to do with territory and everything to do with heartache. Charlie missed Simon so much and Clancy’s only sin was that he wasn’t Simon.
It took a few weeks, and a lot of love and patience, before I could let Clancy roam free through the apartment without encountering Charlie’s hostility. Soon, the boys were snuggling together on the couch or sitting together in the front window.
Eleven years later, we’ve logged hundreds of hours of cuddles. Clancy absolutely cannot abide an empty lap. He could be dead asleep in his favorite hiding place (back corner of the closet but shhhh! Don’t tell Charlie about Clancy’s secret nap spot), but the moment I stretch out on the couch, he’ll appear, looking for the right spot for a snuggle. We’ve moved across the country (six days of car trips went surprisingly well), and the boys have developed a deep brotherly bond.
I couldn’t be more grateful to have this incredible cat in my life, even if I sometimes wish it was his turn to have the shared Orange Tabby Brain Cell. He loves spending time with me on the patio (even if he doesn’t love having to wear a harness for his safety) and Churu/Delectibles. And now that the weather is colder and I have flannel sheets and the down comforter on the bed, he wants to spend all day in bed. Things he doesn’t love: daily eye drops, getting pilled, vet visits, and the aforementioned kitty harness. He is a light in our lives who was sent to us in our moment of need, just as we were sent to him when he needed a forever family.
Although we don’t know for sure how old he is, we do know that Clancy is officially an old man and I don’t know how many more years we’ll have together. But I cherish every moment (even the ones where I have to beg him to focus for just two seconds so he can eat his food before his brother swoops in and takes it).
