On Wednesday, a mere two days after Satchel's death, Kris asked me to bring home Gordo, Custom Box's only remaining shop cat. We were unsure whether he'd be a good fit for our house, but decided to give him a test run.

Gordo has lived outdoors in the country all of his life. He's social, with other cats and with people. He's never been trained to use a litter box, never been fed on a regular schedule, never been allowed indoors for extended periods of time. Everyone at Custom Box likes him, but seemed willing to part with him in order to make Kris happy.

Despite our worries about his ability to adapt to the life of the urban cat, he's doing well. Quite well, in fact -- better than we could have hoped.

The most difficult challenge for any cat moving into our house is adapting to my cat, Toto. Toto is a bitch. She's domineering, foul-tempered, and territorial. The neighbor cats give her a wide berth, and when they don't she whips them until they learn her rules.

When we brought Satchel home last fall Toto tormented him for days. She stalked him from room to room, hissing and spitting and growling. When Satchel needed to use the litter box, Toto followed him and stared at him so that he'd have to turn his back to her to get the job done. Satchel was a scrapper, though. After Toto realized that her foul temper was not going to get rid of this new cat she left him alone. Satchel viewed this as opportunity for retaliation. We'd come home from work to find tufts of fur on the carpet, our cats bleeding from new wounds. During the spring, Toto and Satchel came to an understanding. They weren't friendly but might eventually have become so. They had joined forces in mischief, stalking birds and the like.

When I brought Gordo home Wednesday night, Toto greeted him in the usual way, a chorus of hisses and claws. Gordo was not cowed. In fact, he was so stoic that Toto became disconcerted. Gordo seized upon this uncertainty, turned the tables on her! Suddenly it was Toto who was retreating. It was Toto that was being stalked. It was Toto that was being watched at the litter box.

Gordo feels no animosity toward Toto -- he isn't trying to provoke a fight -- but neither is he willing to tolerate her bitchiness. When Toto is wandering the house, Gordo follows at a safe distance (initially, a few feet). Toto hisses and spits and growls at him and he cocks his head to one side, does a strange swallowing thing, and whimpers. But he keeps advancing. As the days have passed, the distance by which Gordo follows Toto has decreased so that now they're generally within a foot of each other. His plan seems to be to overwhelm her with his presence without actually laying a claw on her. (I don't believe they've exchanged blows yet.) I believe his plan will work.

Toto has spent most of the last several days hiding under the bed. During this time, Gordo has been adjusting to the life of a housecat. He's come to see that housecats lead a much more luxurious life than do shop cats.

A housecat needn't worry about food as they are fed at the same time every night. (And sometimes a housecat gets to eat chicken or ice cream or other delights). A housecat has many toys at his disposal (including some that weren't specifically designed as toys). A housecat needn't sleep in the dirt or the gravel or on the concrete; there are many soft places to rest: couches, pillows, blankets, carpets, dirty clothes. Gordo has adjusted so well to the role of the housecat that he's not that interested in going outside.

Most importantly, Kris likes Gordo. We were worried that he'd have some glaring character flaw and that we'd have to work to find another cat.

(The worst-case scenario involved us crawling back to the Humane Society: "Yes, yes, we know that you warned us over and over not to let Satchel outside and yes, yes, we know that we did so any way and yes, yes, now Satchel has been hit by a car due to our careless disregard for your warnings, but please, please, may we have another cat?")

Gordo has won her over, though, with his perfect blend of the best qualities from Tintin and Satchel. He's a fun cat, always playful, always curious. He's affectionate, too, eager to purr. He's no lap cat yet but may become one with time. Though he's not as smart as Toto (whom I claim is the smartest cat in the world), Gordo is quite intelligent. Most of all, his comportment with Toto has impressed us. We never believed we'd find a cat that would get the best of her, but Gordo has managed to do so.

Gordo was so named because he was the fattest kitten in the litter, always eating (gordo being Spanish for fat). He's not so gordo anymore. In fact, he's long and skinny, almost gaunt. Kris has been attempting to come up with a new name for him, but it's difficult to find something suitable. She liked the name Satchel, but that was wasted on a cat that is dead after only eight months. For Gordo, she tried Ruben, Earl, Bergemot, and a couple of other names. In the end, though, she decided to call him Simon.

We hope that Simon will be with us for many years.

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — Yet Another CD Mix   Here's my lastest masterpiece, for which I have no name.

2004 — Unstructured Playtime   The times I feel happiest now are the times when I have no agenda. Perhaps this is why I so enjoy playing with my friends' children. Kids don't have an agenda when they play; they make things up as they go along.

2003 — The Godfather   I watched the entire Godfather trilogy on my iBook recently, while laying in bed recovering from knee surgery. As I watched, I paused to take the occasional note.