In Memory of Lionheart

A tribute for International Cat Day

Friday was International Cat Day. Not to be confused with National Cat Day, which different countries celebrate on different dates.

But as any cat person will tell you, every day is cat day.

I’ve told Lionheart’s story before. How, one afternoon in 2010, I found him behind my apartment building. At first, I thought he was a stray. Then I noticed the collar.

He came to me right away. I spent a few minutes saying hello, and a little while later, he showed up at my door. He came in for a visit and a bite of food.

Cecil, my tuxedo buddy of ten years, was wary at first but quickly realized he could reclaim the role of alpha animal in the household. (We’d lost Orson, our beloved Maltese, about a year earlier.) Lionheart, always sharper than he let on, accepted the arrangement.

In those early days, he started curling up in my lap or climbing onto my belly — like in the photo above, taken just weeks after we met. It was already clear he had adopted me.

He visited more and more, eventually spending his nights with us.

I learned he belonged to my downstairs neighbors, who had other cats but let Lionheart roam outside. When they moved away, they told me, “He spends all his time with you anyway,” and let me keep him.

Gradually, he became an indoor cat.

When Cecil passed, Lionheart became my caretaker. And when Ronnie and I got married, he took care of both of us. He was loud — just shy of obnoxious at times — and acted more like a puppy than a cat.

He loved everyone. Whatever we were doing, whoever came over, he had to be at the center of it. When we brought Misty Mao home, he immediately became her big brother. She adored him. In her mind, the household hierarchy was clear: Lionheart first, then me and Ronnie.

Once, I took a bad fall down the stairs. For about a month afterward, Lionheart went up and down with me, one step at a time, watching to make sure I didn’t fall again. If we were sick, he stayed glued to our side. When my recovery from surgery took longer than expected, he hardly left me for two weeks.

We lost him about a year ago — sudden and unexpected. But he had fourteen years of love and care, and I’d give him fourteen more if I could.

And what I wouldn’t give now to hear him yowl me awake at four in the morning for breakfast.