G is for George and Gracie

George and Gracie were my introduction to the pleasure of having cats around the house. When they arrived, the two Bengals were litter mates that my wife could hold in the palm of her hand. We still have Gracie, who is eight years old, but earlier this year we lost her brother to HCM, or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, which he had for years. Both were sweethearts--Gracie still is, of course--but George had a devilish streak. Once, later in life, he bit Nancy hard enough to send her to the ER. It wasn't really his fault, as we'd temporarily had him on a medication that was making him crazy. But the hospital reported the incident as required by law, and soon an officer from Animal Control was at our door. We had to quarantine George for a while, and he did calm down after we stopped the offending meds. But he was always ready to swat one of us as we walked by him. He wasn't mean, though; he just wanted attention and loved to play. Even though after he died we got another very sweet cat, we will always miss George.

Gracie has a more garden-variety personality. She loves to climb into my lap when I'm using the computer, although walking on my keyboard is even more fun. When I'm not looking, she likes to chew on paper in my office, which we like to call Gracie doing her paperwork. So I have to be careful what I leave lying around on my desk. Now there is a check stub with a large chunk missing; I'm careful to hide any checks until it's time to go to the bank.

George the office manager

They always preferred water from the faucet
instead of from the water dish.

Gracie as a kitten

An example of Gracie's paperwork