"Fonzarelli"
Our Very Special Cat
November 26, 1981 to March 17, 2003
21 years, 3 months and 19 days old.

Fonzarelli came into my life in December 1981 when I went to pick a kitten from the litter born on Thanksgiving of that year. My mother and Grandfather (mom's dad) had sent me money for Christmas and I decided to spend some on a purebred Siamese. I had always dreamed of having one. When the owner of the cattery brought out the kittens and placed them on the floor for me to choose, they all ran for cover except one. He promptly pounced on my shoe and began playing with the lace. I don't have to tell you that this was my Fonzarelli.

When I took him home in January at 6 weeks of age, he greeted our poodle, Fitz, with playful joy. He slept on my bed right next to my head all night and never prowled around at night like other cats. Fitz became his surrogate parent; teaching Fonzie all the doggy tricks he had learned. When somebody would come to visit, they would both romp to greet them at the door. During his kitten years, Fonzie and Fitz played together tumbling and chasing around the house and yard. I guess because Fitz adopted him, he acquired more canine-type behavior than most cats.

Fitz was our usual travelling companion whenever we set out for a trip. We didn't have any trouble finding someone to care for Fonzie while we were away. He was a real people cat. Everybody who met Fonzie, just fell in love with him. Even those who didn't particularly care for cats. He was a cat of the most endearing personality one could wish for; not usual aloof standoffish behavior of most Siamese cats. Nor was he as vocal as most Siamese cats. He greeted us with his conversational vocals, but that was about it. When we got home, Fonzie would immediately pounce on Fitz and bite his hind legs, just to let him know that he was king of the domain even if Fitz had been chosen to go with us.

When Fitz left us, Fonzie took his place. We had a habit of saying, "Oops!", whenever we accidentally dropped food on the floor during a meal, and Fitz would dash under the table to clean it up for us. Right after Fitz passed, I happened to drop some food during a meal and said, "Oops!", out of habit. Fonzie promptly came running from the living room and ate it up. Now he had never done this while Fitz was alive, but he obviously knew that we no longer had Fitz to do the job. We started taking Fonzie with us on our trips. He did protest riding in the car for the first few miles, but settled right down to his purr before long. He eventually adapted to walking on a leash and we enjoyed many hours together walking in a nearby blueberry patch for practice. As the years went by, Fonzie went everywhere with us. He traveled with us as far as California while I visited my folks for the winter. We found motels along our ways that welcomed pets and he enjoyed casing out every room we checked into. He even figured out that when we packed in the morning he needed to get in his carrier. He was a little spooked by the large semis at the rest stops, but the truckers always seemed to smile at the site of a cat on a leash. We got lots of comments from people wherever we took him.

Last year Fonzie quit sleeping on our bed with me. He broke his usual silence with an entirely strange new voice; which he used quite frequently. This seemed to be our signal that things were about to change. His kidneys were failing, he began to lose weight and his habits changed dramatically. He wasn't playful any more and failed to greet visitors when they came. He just wasn't our Fonzarelli anymore. His time to leave us had come. He was born on Thanksgiving and died on St. Patrick's Day with 21 wonderful years in between. He will be missed by so many that loved him so much.

Oh, about his name; it was his mother's middle name on her registration. But really, with his Cattitude, it suited him just fine.