[Wondergirl]

First published: June 11, 2012

I've loved cats and rescued homeless cats all my life, so of course I became a volunteer at the new local no-cage cat shelter. Unbeknownst to me, Thomas Jefferson, along with his siblings Betsy Ross and Tom Cruise (because of the movie “Born on the Fourth of July”), was born to a feral mom on a stormy Fourth of July, 1994, in a cat shelter volunteer's back yard. The volunteer noticed them, ran out into the rain, scooped up the whole family, and eventually brought them to the shelter. The mom later ended up on a farm in Wisconsin, and both Betsy and Tom were adopted as kittens. Time went by. No one adopted Thomas Jefferson, so he settled in at the shelter.

I helped out at the shelter on weekends. One Sunday afternoon in early December of that same year, I was sitting in a cozy chair and doing some serious cat socializing when out of nowhere this pushy, bossy, skinny tan cat jumped up onto my lap and pushed off a couple of drowsy felines whom I had been brushing. He demanded a few pats, walked around in circles on my lap, kneaded a bit, then promptly curled up for a snooze.

About a half hour later, it was time for me to go home. I gently joggled my thighs so the cat would wake up. He did, stretched mightily, ignored me completely without even a “thank you for your lap” or “it was nice meeting you,” jumped down to the floor, and ran off to a bowl of dry food. Well, okay, I thought.

I returned to the shelter the next Sunday afternoon and mentioned to the shelter manager that I was in the market for a black cat that would look great curled up next to my tuxedo cat at home. We found a few black cats that were sleeping in various corners of the no-cage shelter, but none of them plucked at my heart strings.

“What about Thomas Jefferson?” Kathy asked. “He's been here for six months and has seen his family get adopted, but no one has chosen him yet.” Kathy proceeded to do her cat-shelter-volunteer spiel, telling me about Thomas's history and endearing characteristics. “Thomas Jefferson,” she yelled repeatedly, walking around the shelter. “Thomas Jefferson, where are you?”

Sleeping cats awoke and lifted their heads to see who was making such a racket, but no Thomas Jefferson appeared. Kathy and I sat down to discuss my needs and wants regarding adopting a cat. Suddenly, out of nowhere, skinny tan body jumped into my lap, did his circling thing, kneaded a bit, and promptly tucked himself into a furry circle for sleep. I told Kathy that this was repeat behavior from last Sunday. I'd already “met” this very brash cat.

“Ah, that's Thomas Jefferson! And, Carol, I think you have been chosen.”

Thomas went home with me that same day and was my soulcat for nearly fifteen years. If I was eating, he wanted to know what it was and usually gave the bowl or plate a few cursory licks after I had finished (he really would have preferred to lick WHILE I was eating). His most favorite treat was Italian beef from the Chicago restaurant chain Portillo's or from Arby's. No other beef would do. It had to be one of those two. And if I was reading, he was right there on my lap checking out the title and sniffing the inside of the book. He sat on the tabletop and intently watched with wide eyes as I mended clothes or wrote thank-you notes or did crossword puzzles, like this was something he needed to know how to do “just in case.” Part of his job, he felt, was “helping” me in any way he could, so that when I did the crossword or had any paper lying on the table, he would sprawl all over it to be the best paperweight ever. He taught me how to bump foreheads (cat greeting), and sometimes we got down on all fours on the living room floor and played “Titanic” (I was the ship and he was the iceberg).

During the winter, one of his favorite places was on the pet heating pad. No other cat dared sleep there. That was Sacred Space. Throughout his lifetime, he remained a pushy, bossy, skinny, very vocal tan cat who always had something to “say” — and who could jump from chair to cat condo to the top of the computer table in order to walk along the top of the drapery rods and use his tail to whisk away any cobwebs in the corners (“See how I help you?”). He was always the top cat and kept our other rescues firmly in line.

Thomas was the light of my life and will be in my thoughts every day of the rest of my life.