Apollo 2011-2025

Apollo came to us as a ten-week-old kitten in the spring of 2011. Princess picked him out from a litter of ten orange kittens at the local animal shelter. I had never gotten a kitten from an animal shelter before, because you could always get a free kitten from someone, and kittens were often dumped at the local radio station. That day I found that even though you pay a fee for shelter cats, it's a bargain compared to getting a free kitten fixed and vaccinated. Why did we have to have a kitten that day? Princess's cat Biscuit met a sudden and unfortunate end. She cried mightily, and Mr. Cellania told her we'd get her a new kitten. Why did you do that? We have three other cats! He said he couldn't stand to see a woman cry. I said that's a pretty dangerous way to live for a man who has six daughters. But his word put an immediate end to her tears, which also jarred me. Princess named the new kitten Apollo, since she was studying 8th grade Greek mythology. She had already named our cockatoos Helios and Hades. 

 

The three other cats were all female, and all doted on Apollo. But Marshmallow, only one year old at the time, decided this was her baby. He thrived in this environment and became convinced he was a the king of the house and the leader of the cats. All other cats deferred to him. All his life, Marshmallow would lick his fur while he stole her food. He soon became the biggest, but was never the smartest. He was orange, after all. But he was friendly. Anyone walking by the house was welcome to pay him the honor of a petting, while the other cats kept their distance until after Apollo got his due. People were always surprised by his high-pitched voice for such a large cat. I believe it was because he was neutered at a very young age. 

There were six people in the house as Apollo grew up. Every cat "belonged" to a particular person, but one by one, the people left. When Princess left, Apollo was confused, but she came back from time to time, less often after college. Like the rest, Apollo learned to become my cat because I was always here. That's how many older women become cat ladies. 

 I not like vegetals.

Apollo was a creature of habit. Fancy Feast time is at six, so he started nagging me about it at five. Then I'd have to put him and his food outside (or in the bathroom if it was really cold) so the other cats could eat. Then he would rush back in to see if anyone had any food left. He learned that if I was taking too long to check the door for cats, he could claw on my office window and meow to be let in. That's why the screen has a huge hole in it. When the next kitten came, Apollo took Tommy under his wing and they became wrestling buddies. Tommy was much smarter, but still deferred to the bigger Apollo. Sometimes I think he was just humoring the big orange cat. 

Apollo always slept at the foot of my bed (or Princess's bed if she was here). It was only in the last few months that he learned he could get a petting session if he sat at the top of the bed until I fell asleep, but then he'd return to the foot. In later years, he switched from jumping onto the bed to climbing up with his claws due to arthritis. Sundae learned that from him, and she claws her way up even though she can jump just fine. 

When Tommy started going on walks with me, Apollo quickly joined in. But when arthritis arrived, the walk would be punctuated by his complaining. Sometimes I would carry him part of the way, which amused the neighbors. Then I put him inside before a walk, because staying at home was out of the question for him even when walking was painful.    

Apollo never sat on my lap -or anyone else's. My younger cats love to sit on my lap, and Marshmallow learned to enjoy it after she turned twelve or so, but that wasn't Apollo's way. The closest he ever came was to stand on my lap a few times while getting petted. But earlier this week, Apollo settled into my lap for the first time for about 15 minutes like a normal cat. I was delighted, and thought maybe he was learning new pleasures in his old age like Marshmallow. Maybe I should have been concerned instead.

I noticed how bony Apollo was getting. He hadn't lost any weight, but his body seemed to be sagging and his spine had become more prominent. He'd been slowing down for a long time, but had no symptoms of illness. He died last night, sleeping at the foot of my bed. He was getting close to 15 years old, which is past the curve even for an indoor cat. I can't bury him until daylight, so I am coping the way I always do, by writing. I won't post this until I notify my daughters. 

Apollo was a good cat. He was certainly loved. I believe he had a good life.