On September 6, 2000, the
feline population doubled, when c.c. joined the Opie Project.
The Husband had found her wandering in the woods behind his place
of employment (more accurately, she found him - she came running
to him, meowing incessantly). After feeding her and chatting
with her for several days (she was a constant conversationalist
whenever humans were around), he brought her home to meet Opie.
Opie and c.c. were an example
of a sum being greater than its parts. They were an inseparable
pair, and a positive contribution to life around the Opie Project.
  OPIE & CC |
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2000, 2001,
2002, 2003,
2004
2000,
2001, 2002,
2003, 2004
2000,
2001, 2002,
2003, 2004
If you had a cat built with all the options, it would be c.c.
She had all the positive features of a cat - friendly, curious,
loving, energetic. She always seemed to be having a good time,
and she always made us feel good as well.
Opie and c.c. were best friends practically from the beginning.
At first Opie tried to ignore her, but she would not be ignored.
She was fresh out of kittenhood with lots to learn, and she followed
him everywhere, copying his actions, and emulating every behavior.
Eventually Opie accepted the role of surrogate parent, and they
became inseparable.
From Opie, c.c. learned that the outdoors was the place for play,
adventure and pooping (the litterbox was for emergencies only).
She also learned Opie's critter-retrieval skills and brought
home many captures, all unharmed. She did so well, Opie took
an early retirement and left the critter-catching to c.c.
Opie taught c.c. the territory, and she learned not to venture
far from the house. With a woods at her backyard, and a small
stream running past the side yard, and lots of trees to climb,
she really had no need to venture too far.
Opie kept a protective eye on her while she explored fearlessly.
She was never out of his sight. If he thought she was venturing
too far into the woods, he would stop and sit. She would not
proceed further unless he did too.
They almost always did things together. They had a morning ritual
that consisted of breakfast, followed by a patrol of the backyard
and the creekbed, and finishing up with a leisurely catnap on
either the front steps or the deck (depending on the ratio of
sun to heat that day).
Even though they had their own cat door at the back of the house,
Opie preferred to sit at the front door and meow to be let in
(possibly a retained behavior from a previous home).
And of course c.c. had to copy her mentor's lead.
Eventually, Opie gave c.c. more liberties. He would watch her
from the deck while she explored the creek and the edge of the
woods. After a while she would return to join him on the deck.
c.c. liked the deck's elevation - she could observe everything
from a lofty perch and could spot movement at the edge of the
woods.
And if the deck wasn't high enough, there were the trees. She
could often be found near the top of the tallest trees in the
yard. At first we worried that she was going to get herself stuck
up there and somebody was going to have to go get her. But she
always managed to make her way down safely.
c.c. would also carry on non-verbal communications with the next-door
cats as they sat in their living room window.
c.c. found her own adventures too. She was always the curious
kitten at heart.
It seemed she was always at full speed ...
... and always getting into something.
c.c. always encouraged Opie to play, despite Opie's majority
of years on her. It kept him young.
And they slept as hard as they played ...
... Synchronized Sleeping.
We decided that c.c would always be spelled lowercase because
capital letters made her name look bigger than Opie's, and nothing
is bigger than Opie.
Snow was always a big attraction to Opie and c.c. ...
... although they never really liked it that much, they were
always drawn to it.
Around dinnertime, when the Spouses were due home, c.c. would
wait by the window over the driveway to greet their arrival.
She also liked to supervise the Husband during his outdoor
chores ...
for example, perching in a tree to observe his leaf-raking skills.
In April of 2004, c.c. developed a series of infections that got into her blood. Several surgeries and transfusions failed to save her.
Every cat is unique and special in its own way, but c.c. managed
to cram a whole lifetime of special moments into the relatively
brief forty-three months she was with us. We all miss her.
Goodbye, c.c. And thanks.