Tuxie Tales

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Meet Tuxie, the land shark. Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun go his paws as he patters around you determining the best way to surprise you. The black and white blur looks just like a shark circling its prey. Suddenly, BITE! SCRATCH! The Tux-Shark has struck again.

Nearly one year ago, Joe and I rescued Tuxie from the Sacramento Animal Shelter. We were thinking about a bunny or a small dog, but upon walking between the bunnies and the dogs, we inevitably passed through the cat zone. Tuxie was in a room by himself, just outside of the bunny room. He followed us as we walked by, and finally we were lured in. We should have known better; why would a cat be in a room by itself while all the other cats were in rooms with many other cats? However, he was the sweetest thing. He jumped into our laps, walked circles around us, and purred up a storm. We knew right away that he was the one for us. He was loving and full of life. Then we brought him home. 

We now have a tuxedo cat who bites like a vampire, stalks like a tiger, hides like Houdini, and destroys like a tornado, but who also loves with the same passion that he creates disaster. Joe and I love him so much despite the innumerable bites, scratches, unsettling noises, and things done missing. I have yet to find my favorite paintbrushes and Chapstick, but I did find some batteries beneath the toaster. He's a whirlwind of energy: He eats our plants, destroys puzzles, lays on our work, short-circuits the TV and internet, turns off my alarm clock, opens doors, swats at the spring doorstopper (dooiiiing, dooiiiing, dooiiiing), spreads soil all over the carpet after knocking plants over, attacks our hands and feet (or at best, struts a nonstop figure 8 in front of our feet which makes it very difficult to move forward), wakes us when he is bored, eats anything and everything, feels the need to display his rear in our faces, spills water all over the place, drags trash out of the trashcan, leaves fur all over the place (he clogged our vacuum), and has scarred my hands to resemble something like dinosaur claws. Yet, he is the epitome of a creature living life to the fullest, seeking fulfillment beyond the given, and expressing as much love as he does trouble. He has taught me to let go, accept things as they are, and not take life so seriously. Most often, love is accompanied by pain; greater experiences of pain provide a foundation for much richer experiences of happiness.