Back in another life, I lived in a little house on Long Island, not far from the university where I’d gone to school and at which my husband worked. We always had a dog and several cats. In those days, we let our cats outside. There wasn’t much traffic and everyone’s cats roamed the neighborhood.

One day, while we were out in the yard, we had a visitor, a medium-sized black and white cat. He was extremely friendly. Sidled right up to us, purring, and doing that little head butt that’s so endearing. Maybe he was hungry? Of course we fed him.

My son fell immediately in love and we said he could keep the cat.


My husband had a passion for the classics. He named the cat Ahab, which he said meant “wanderer.” Princeton University agrees, except the name in Hebrew means “uncle.” (Which is irrelevant but I threw it in because I did the research and wanted to do something with the information. Back to the story, already in progress.)

Ahab was a sweetheart, the most laid-back cat I ever knew. My 4-year old felt he needed a bubble bath in a bucket. Ahab purred his way through the bubbles and the rinse cycle, then continued purring all the way through dinner and a relaxed evening on the sofa with the whole family.

We couldn’t figure out why anyone would let a sweet fellow like Ahab go. He was young. Healthy. Litter trained, though he preferred going outside to do his business. His coat was shiny and he showed no sign of abuse or neglect. He oozed charm.

Ahab settled in like he’d always lived with us. He got along with the dog and the other cats. Loved children. Loved everyone. We made a date to take him to vet and get his shots.

He never went to the vet, at least not with us. The following day, without so much as a “by your leave,” Ahab moved down the block and took up residence with a different family. We were a little wounded. We’d never been abandoned by a cat before. His new family adored him but Ahab only hung around a few day, then moved on.

We eventually lost track of Ahab. He moved from house to house, charming everyone and purring his way to his next home. He never stayed longer than a few days and was always the perfect house guest.

Was he a stray? If he was, it was because that’s what he wanted to be.  Ahab was a wanderer by choice.

Categories: #animals, Anecdote, Cats, Pets

Tags: , , ,

10 replies

  1. Awww, Ahab does look like a lovely boy. Sounds like he was playing the field, haha.

    Since you like cats, I wonder if you might like a free copy of my humorous little book The Cat’s Guide to Human Behavior for review? Let me know what you think – http://xcpublishing.net/the-cats-guide-to-human-behavior/


    • I would love it. But I’m going in for a double heart valve repair/replacement in a few days … so I think it will have to wait a few weeks. Just no time right now for anything. I wish I could.


      • Good Lord! Take care – I’ll be thinking of you. No worries about the book. Let me know if you are interested later. I’m sending you healing vibes!


        • I suggest you drop back and remind me because there’s so much going on, I will probably forget this as well as a lot of other things. As it is, I forget stuff. So imagine the possibilities for additional forgetting 🙂


  2. A stray dog adopted my home for a short while. The dog was a darling, except for his face which was filled with porcupine quills. I took him to a Vet who sedated the dog, removed the quills and released him back to me at the end of the day. I brought the dog home and he was very happy but carried on his tramping ways and left us. He too, did not want to be ‘kept’. I’ll never forget him though.


    • Yes, some of them are just like Tramp in the movie. They like roaming. They could have a home, but they choose the road. I think they’d be poets if they were people.


  3. I’d lay large amount of money that the cat stayed right up to the point when a visit to the vet was in order and then moved on and repeated the process ad nauseum – smart cat probably had a vet phobia


    • I thought so too. He also wanted to keep his balls! I think he was a kitty with restless paws. Anyone of the families with whom he stayed would have happily kept him, but he didn’t want to be kept. Freedom. Okay.


  4. What a lovely story: he sounds such an endearing animal. xxx


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