Mr. Tuffy T. Waggles
Click
to start a slide show of Mr. Tuffy T. Waggles.
How Mr. Tuffy T. Waggles Came to Live With Us
The following was written by Richard:
I had lived with cats for most of my life, but when we moved to Arizona in 1998, we decided not to have any pets, other than the ones that come with living in Arizona: rattlesnakes, scorpions, javelinas, bobcats, etc.
Back in California, we had had a wonderful orange tabby by the name of Spencer. He was the most affectionate and wonderful cat imaginable. But he contracted feline AIDS (undiagnosed by our incompetent vet, but I don't hold a grudge ... HA!!!) and died a long, slow death. It was very difficult for Carolyn and me to cope with the grief of losing Spencer, but we retired to Arizona, and life went on.
We had planned to take a trip back to California in September 2002 but changed our minds at the last minute and decided not to go. I said, "Then I want a cat."
We went to the Tucson Humane Society on a Friday afternoon, and went into the "cat" room (the dogs were in a separate section, but within barking distance) to look for our new family member. We had absolutely, positively, definitely decided that we were not going to get a male cat, because of the spraying problem with males.
The "cat" room contained 50-60 cages, stacked three high, some with two cats, but most with one. Just inside the door, in a bottom cage, was a beautiful 6-month-old orange tabby. I rushed to look at the ID card, hoping that it might be one of the rare female orange tabbies ... but no luck; it was a male, identified as having been a stray. I leaned over and put my finger next to the cage, at which time the cat came over, nuzzled my finger, and then rubbed against my hand through the bars. He recognized a soft touch when he saw one.
Disappointed, I began to look at the other cats in the room. Some were friendly, nuzzling my finger and being otherwise responsive. But I kept glancing back at the little orange male, just inside the door ... and remembering Spencer. Tears began forming in my eyes. It had been 5 years since Spencer's death, but I was still grieving. I noticed that Carolyn also had made several trips back to look at the orange male. Finally we said, "What are we going to do?" Tearfully, Carolyn said, "I could be talked into that cat." And, equally tearfully, I said, "I want that cat."
We went out to the lobby and asked the Humane Society folks if they had any Kleenex we could use. They handed us a box (I'm sure we weren't the first people to need Kleenex at the Humane Society), and we said that we had found a cat that we wanted. We filled out all the paperwork and paid the money, but before we could take the cat home with us, he had to be neutered, which meant that he had to spend one more night at the Humane Society.
The next day, we went back to the shelter and picked up our new family member. A few days later he began sneezing, hundreds of times in one day. We took him to a vet, who said that the cat had a respiratory infection, which most Humane Society cats have. It's an airborne disease, and the cats live in close proximity to each other. We gave him pills for a week, and he has been fine ever since.
Like most cats, he loves to sharpen his claws on the furniture. We had scratching posts for him, but, of course, the furniture was preferable. Since he is strictly an indoor cat (here in Arizona, cats are known as "coyote food"), we had considered having him declawed ... until we did some research about declawing and discovered that it is mutilation. It is not simply removing the claws. Imagine having your fingers amputated at the first knuckle. While doing some research on the Internet, I discovered a product called Soft Paws. They are claw covers that are glued onto each claw. The claw covers are saving our furniture, and they are a humane alternative to declawing. The claw covers are available in blue, red, pink, purple, and clear. For more information about the claw covers, go to the following website: www.softpaws.com .
Now, about the cat's name, Mr. Tuffy T. Waggles. Carolyn wanted to name him "Tuffy", because he would have to be tough to survive as a stray here in Coyote Country. I noticed that he wagged his tail a lot, so I thought that Mr. Waggles would be a good name for him. Neither Carolyn nor I would budge, so, on the way to the vet's office, we compromised on Mr. Tuffy Waggles. Our son Jason suggested that he needed a middle name, so Carolyn and I decided on "T", for a small town we had seen in Mexico, Topolobampo.
Hence, the name: Mr. Tuffy Topolobampo Waggles
But above and beyond there's still one name left over
And that is the name that you never will guess
The name that no human research can discover —
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
— T. S. Eliot
