Ares

I just realized that I’ve had Ares for just about 7 years. I no longer remember the exact day that he came into my life, but I do remember that it was the Thursday before “49ers” — Tech’s equivalent of homecoming. (It used to be a drinking fest, with a keg on a truck, but that was before my time. In recent times has toned down quite a bit.)

I’d been living at Bob’s house since January, and my dorm-roommate from my first semester at Tech was living in the dorm again (after being out for a semester). She had been given a kitten by her boyfriend. Yeah, that was thoughtful — especially considering she was living in the dorm again, where pets were taboo. She was going home for the weekend, and wanted to find a home for her kitten before leaving. I was worried that she might leave him at a shelter, so I took him home with me. (Later that year, she left town with my microwave and cube refrigerator, never to be heard from, by me at least, again. I suppose she saw Aries as payment for the appliances she took. Of course, I’d never trade him back, but I missed my microwave when I moved out on my own to Maryland!)

Bob wasn’t too happy having another cat in the house. He already had three of his own (Little Cat, Daisy, and Evil Cat (a.k.a. Milinka)), and was hoping to reduce the number of cats in the house. But the new little bundle of black fur was cute, and soon won Bob over. (Melissa didn’t need winning over — she liked the little guy from the beginning.)

At first, I thought Ares was a girl, based on the word of my ex-roommate, so I named him Eris after the goddess of discord. When he went to the vet the first time, I renamed him Ares, which sounds a lot like Eris, so the little guy wouldn’t get too confused.

He’s been a bit of a handful after he went through puberty. He started marking because I got him fixed just a bit too late…sigh. I was convinced that I would never find anyone who would put up with this behavior, but Andrew and I seem to be coping. Fortunately, Ares has seemed to claim the basement as his territory, and doesn’t really mark the rest of the house. That means that the basement is questionable on any given day, but at least we only have to clean up one floor.

Fortunately, his good qualities far outweigh his bad one. He’s fluffy (not exactly long-haired, but not short-haired either). He likes to cuddle on cool days. He purrs a lot! He loves to be in the bathroom with me when I shower in the mornings, and frequently I’ll hear him purring on the other side of the shower curtain when I turn off the water. He’s a talker — meowing even as he purrs. He likes to have his tummy petted (rare in a cat). He loves to have his fur petted in all directions (even more rare in a cat).

Sigh. I love my little guy. I can’t believe he’s 7 years old, though. Sometimes he still seems like a tiny kitten to me.