If History Were Taught in the Form of Stories, it Would Never be Forgotten

Kipling says, “Hmmmmm.”

A vast sad happened over at the BadGardens this past weekend; they lost their kitty Kipling. LunarGeography wrote up a beautiful and teary post about Kipples (my nickname for him) which I couldn’t even hope to duplicate so I won’t. Instead I’ll share some of my memories.

Kipling wasn’t really a kitty as much as he was a cat. Not because he was 11ish years old but because he had a certain bemused and sometimes bewildered dignity about him. A gentleman’s cat if you will…although perhaps more on the Bertie Wooster end of the gentleman scale than the Lord Peter Whimsy end. Still, there was a certain air about Kipples in which gravitas won out ever so slightly over lack of kitty smarts.

Of the four Badgarden cats, Kipples was the most presently gregarious. Violet is, for certain, the cat whom all your scritchies are belong to and Troa is getting more people oriented but Kipling was the cat we most often saw. He was not adverse to a good head scratching from a stranger but mostly he liked to hang out and be. Come Christmas you would find Kipples under the tree, during Smithee movie nights he was in or on LunarGeography’s crocheting and when activity was happening in the kitchen (that didn’t immediately promise food) he’d sit back by the scratching post near the living room and observe. He might almost seem aloof except you could call him over for pettins and he’s happily amble up to your outstretched hand.

The coolest thing about Kipling, and as I understand it how he got his name, is that he was a master cat treat hunter. My cat Isaak will chase down kitty treats that you fling off into the distant hallway but Kipling didn’t cotton to that sort of thing. Instead he’d bat the treat out of the air before it got past him. 9 times out of 10 BAMN! the treat would be smacked from mid flight to land near enough to easily nom. It was the coolest thing and I admit that the times we cat sit for the BadGarden crowd, I may have fed the cats more treats than they might ordinarily get just to see Kipples do his mighty hunter thing.

You were a most excellent cat, Kipling. We will miss you.

2009: Thus I wound up misreading it as “entirely made of meh aftertaste” which…works too.

2008: At first I thought it was the Smithee clip tapes (bwa!)

2007: I also managed to make a five sided hexagram. I don’t want to talk about it.

2006: JSFR: Choco Chipu 24% Chocolate

2005: JSFR: Sumiyaki Coffee Ami

2004: That is until I had to kill and eat Vande for madly chasing the “new” catnip mousie with much enthusiasm all over the freaking place for hours last night.

2003: Oh yeah, and Grrr to Isaak this morning too. Little bastard jumped up on the bed and then went immediately over to TheMan to get scratches.

One Response to “If History Were Taught in the Form of Stories, it Would Never be Forgotten”

  1. Kevin Says:

    I think it’s safe to say that his CatDad might have given them all more treats than necessary on evenings when Kipling was in fine form. Every once in a while, he would catch treats in midair between his paws and bring them to his mouth before he landed. As Charlotte might have said, “Some Cat.”

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