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| Name: |
Otto
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Age: |
Deceased, over eight years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Grey Tabby
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| Home: |
Cupertino, California, USA
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Otto was a lovable cranky old feral curmudgeon who owned the entire neighborhood. The neighborhood in this case is Cat Country, a cluster of 17 houses on a private road in a heavily wooded area.
Otto first appeared in 2001. He was a Mucho Macho Tomcat, sturdy, built like a bulldog, assertive, a very commanding presence. In typical feral fashion, he was suspicious, wary, spooky, and totally unapproachable. He would wait in the underbrush until he was certain no human was around, then he would cautiously approach the food in the driveway, fill his tank, dope slap any resident cat who objected, then swagger off to the next station.
Although he could have adopted any human in the neighborhood, he was fiercely independent and chose not to adopt; but everyone knew him and fed him anyway. After a couple of years he began to mellow, eventually allowing a bit of stroking and petting - just don't overdo it. Now, instead of waiting cautiously in the underbrush, he would confidently announce his arrival, kiss the girls, head straight for the food, gulp down a generous helping of kibble and tuna, drink the milk, sit on his haunches and preen for a while, then shuffle off into the woods on Tom Cat Business.
Trekking through the underbrush, he was a tick magnet. He always showed up with at least one tick sucking his blood, usually on the back of his neck where he could not reach it; two ticks were common, and one time he had four.
Frequently Otto would come around early in the morning, 2 am to 4 am. He could be heard caterwauling off in the distance, getting louder and louder, 20 minutes later he would be in the driveway.
Being a Tom Cat, and following standard Tom Cat Imperative, in May 2008 he decided he had to get acquainted with the girls on the other side of the very busy main highway, a half-mile away. He didn't get there, he was killed on the highway. Thankfully, he did't get squashed, his body was intact on the shoulder of the highway.
There's more. Eight months later, an adolescent tom cat appeared in the driveway and proceeded to inspect the premises, sending the resident cats into a panic. Mr. New Cat turned out to be a xerox copy of Otto, the only trivial differences being white mittens, white boots, and a white bib. His face is Otto, Otto, Otto. There can be no doubt that Otto was his ancestor. See picture. He established residence and every morning waits outside the kitchen door for breakfast, along with the other starving resident cats, standing upright on his hind legs, whining and begging desperately for food. (Pay no attention to his pot belly, you must understand that he is HUNGRY, FEED HIM NOW). Repeat procedure for supper.
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