Biloxi, the cat, has been in our family now for 19 years, 3 months. That's a significant amount of time for a cat to live amongst one family of humans. I know that Biloxi loves us. We've basically grown up together! He's put up with our many moves (19 to be exact), and seemed to be quite content when we initially settled in the Cayman Islands, where retirement life is spent watching Evan work, basking on the sunny patio, and maiming any lizard that dares enter his domain.
However, over the last few years, we can see old age setting in with our dear old man. His orange coat does appear greasier than a bucket of KFC, he's skeletor skinny, and he can no longer jump high enough to clear the couch (cat stairs have been erected everywhere in our house). Despite all this, Biloxi's overall health is decent for a 94 year old. He still eats, drinks water from the dripping faucet, and even plays with his toy mouse when the mood hits him right. The biggest problem, however, is his mood. He's just kinda...miserable.
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| Always with the pawparazzi! |
When our sweet Dundee passed away in September, we were initially concerned that Biloxi would be lonely. However, he appeared quite happy to be the only pet again, and was extremely cuddly, purring on our lap at any chance he got. But over the last few months, we've noticed that he's drifting back into miseryville, spending the majority of his day screaming his discontent, for reasons unbeknownst to us. And just to clarify - it is a "scream." It is no longer a meow, but like a "Why the F can't you guys do anything right?" whiskers shaking kind of scream. We just can't seem to please this guy! Whether it's because the faucet isn't dripping at the correct rate, or because I haven't placed the sheet over his little orange head at just the right angle - we just never know exactly how we are failing him!
Our good friends, Rachel and Michael, recently had to put their sweet old dog to sleep, leaving the other dog (whom they lovingly refer to as "Wobbly Dog," due to a neurological condition) sad and depressed. They decided to foster a beautiful blonde female dog and within hours the two dogs fell hopelessly in love, ending Wobbly Dog's depressed state. This got me thinking...perhaps Biloxi's last wish in his golden years is to find love? It's worth a shot.
So I sat down with my dear old friend Bilox, and we created a dating profile:
Biloxi Lindsay - age 19 years; 4 months (That's approximately 94 in cat years)
Hair - Orange with a greasy sheen
Weight - light enough to blow over in a strong wind
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| What part of "Right Meow" don't you understand? |
Summary:
I'm really a simple cat. My very complicated humans have moved me all around the world, and all that I'm really seeking is some stability. After years of adventure and unpredictability, including the London Heathrow catnip quarantine incident of 2002 and the fox chase of 2008, I require routine. If you try to F@#$ up my routine, I will let you know. I don't ask for much, really.
Likes:
1) The seafood Tower - my food must be arranged in a tower-like structure. It must be comprised of some type of seafood pate, but if I determine that I do not want a particular seafood that day (you can't ask a cat to eat tuna everyday!), the correct seafood must be quickly identified and served immediately (in the tower structure). If my tower falls or touches the edge of my dish, I will scream. I would enjoy a partner who will scream along with me, whilst appreciating the finer things in life.
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| I enjoy the finer things in life.... |
2) The Faucet Drip - I refuse to drink water from a water dish or pet waterfall device. That is for the domesticated. I drink my water out of a dripping faucet. The water must drip at a rate of 2 drips per second. No more, no less. If the rate is not correct, I will scream. I am looking for a partner who appreciates my need for precision.
3) Au Naturel Fur - I no longer groom myself. That is for mere mortals. My humans groom me with coconut products and fancy brushes. If they try to remove a piece of seafood tower from my whiskers or attempt to remove a knot from my tail, I will scream. I am looking for a partner who will appreciate my low maintenance lifestyle.
4) Looking out the window - I do enjoy sitting at the window and looking over my domain. The neighbourhood cats often approach my window, hoping to bask in my excellence. When they come too close to the window, I scream. I'm looking for a partner who respects that I rule the empire.
5) Cuddling under the covers - I really enjoy cuddling with my human under the covers. She lifts her sheets and allows me at least 3 minutes to establish if entering the sheet fort is preferred. If she lowers the sheet fort down on my head before I have determined that it is safe to do so, I will scream. I'm looking for a partner who will appreciate that perfection takes time.
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| My humans are exhausting. |
6) Direct communication - I'm not about subtleties. If I am pissed off, I will let you know - literally, by pissing. I can't imagine a more direct form of communicating my discontent. My humans initially thought that perhaps I had a medical condition, causing me to pee outside of my litter box. After spending $500 on medical tests, they determined that was not the case (which I already knew). I was actually pissed off, and the screaming no longer appeared to be effective. I'm looking for a partner who will appreciate my directness.
Dislikes:
I really do not dislike anything. As you can see, I'm quite an easy-going and loveable kind of guy.
Although it's taken an excessive amount of time, it appears as though my humans are semi-trained. I'm looking for a partner who will not interfere with this training process that I have so meticulously put in place.
Applicants can come to my window between the hours of 3:00pm and 3:07pm (Seafood tower screaming commences at 3:08pm).
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