Smith, the Spokescat

Smith is part Norwegian Forest, part Maine Coon cat, and mostly human.

He came to us via our local Humane Society, where our daughter volunteered as a cage cleaner, dog walker and cat patter. We are fortunate to have a well-supported Shelter, and most animals in good health remain until they find a home. However, Fridays are reserved for euthanizing sick animals, and some Thursday nights, Aylie would come home, big-eyed, with “Blackie is being EXECUTED tomorrow, and YOU can save him.”

We explained there was a limit to how many animals we could keep, but it was an argument that she was adept at ignoring.  She loved one cat in particular and pestered us until we agreed to check him out. We were enthralled by this small grey kitten that dropped from the highest reaches of the cat jungle gym, landing on unsuspecting, sleeping cats. He jumped, he twirled, he somersaulted, and he purred—no, it was more of a chirp—loudly as he terrorized all the cats in that cage. Our daughter got him out. I said, “Well, if we see a sign or something…”, knowing full well that this cat would be going home with us. Aylie tapped her shoulder, and the kitten leaped. He chirped and snored and gurgled and cozied himself about her neck.

This was an amazing cat. We adopted him, and he became our owner. 

Even people who think they dislike cats (can there be such?) enjoy Smith. He likes everyone and makes them his friends. He calms dogs during thunderstorms and gentles nervous, frightened cats.

Smith is an endorsement for cats. He lets us know he is a vastly superior entity. A wild kitten who raised himself until he came to us and trained us, he has tips and suggestions. He can help you tame your animal. 

Smith is very, very old. He has many age-related problems, and we know, though refuse to admit, that he will soon bid us a loving farewell. Until then, he loves to sit on our laps, munch catnip, and purr loudly, a soothing lullaby.