I thought about him for 6 months before he arrived. I prayed for a cat. Then one day he appeared. A handsome, long hair, orange tabby 6 months old. Rusty was and is above all - intelligent, tender, humorous and...an angel. I wanted a young cat to compliment big *old* ruff, tuff Spot the squirrel and rat killer. Spot once brought a live squirrel to the kitchen and dropped it at my feet. When squirrel tried to run he killed it so quickly I was impressed. Spot was hunting food to give to me. Isn't that sweet? When he discovered that rat wasn't my favorite food he took to eating them himself. Not relishing the head with one or both front paws, the tail and some dark sac like internal organ, I removed these parts for many years from the kitchen floor, the hallways, etc.

Spot was always highly praised for rat kills. He was the center of attention each time a set of rat parts was found. Tuna fish in water - an entire can was his reward Spot loved it. After a couple of years his taste for human grade canned tuna fish was firmly established. Sometimes he would turn away from cat food and sorrowfully whine to me for tuna. "Kill a rat - get a can of tuna" was my stock refrain. Spot hunted rodents to near extinction. I had to buy the 12-packs of Chicken of the Sea at Costco to keep up with him. And then it stopped. He had decimated the local rat population. Now he was a desperate animal trying to satisfy his lust for Chicken of the Sea. So he took up ambushing squirrels.

One day a squirrel saw me at the back door and ran down from his tree, along the fence stopping 6 feet from my face. Chi! Chiitt! Chit! Chit!...I was being chastised by a rodent. The translation went something like "You think this is funny? Your cat killed my spouse for a can of tuna and I think you're a chit chit! and your *%##! cat, too." I was stunned, mouth agog...then the squirrel ran away .

Spot, 1993, age 12

That really did happened. That squirrel really did yell at me for what Spot had done. And I was ashamed, seeing the squirrels point of view like that. To this day I'm sorry for encouraging my cat to kill for a treat. Pavlovian conditioning put to evil purposes. It makes you think. Doesn't it? Later I started a trophy board for Spot, nailing his left over rodent pieces on a weathered redwood board under the carport. Crawling under the house I found a mummified cat dried as flat as salted fish. It went in the center of the display, surrounded by heads, tails...like a cat dream...the mummy cat became known affectionately as “flat cat.”

One day when I glowed a bit from some fungus after a Grateful Dead concert Spot's board was titled "Flat Cat with Friends" and priced at $250. An original Spot & Rusty work of trans-dimensional life force sculpture in bone and wood. Yes, one visitor wanted to buy it. "Oh, I can't do that...the artist isn't ready to part with it..." So Spot strip mined the alluvial and aerial rodents. The tuna ritual faded into memories. Rusty often heard Spot recall how delicious canned tuna was and how it was only obtained by bringing Rusty “PK” (Proof of Kill animal pieces). Rusty was determined to taste this treat. He was an unskilled hunter. He couldn't catch a rat or find a mouse. So he brought home ambushed birds. This was frustrating for him when Rusty wasn't home - the birds wouldn't sit still, and Rusty hadn't learned to kill yet- only play, so there were often feather trails throughout the house. At the end would be a virtually naked bird, hiding, shivering in a corner or in a waste basket.

Spot was too old to hunt by then and petitioned me to accept the first bird as a rodent substitute. My mistake was to feel pity for Spot and give in. He had been a prolific rodent warrior. I felt I owed him some free tuna in his retirement years. OK, "Kill a bird - get tuna" was the new deal. Do you see where this is going? Rusty began to climb trees stalking more birds to earn more tuna credits. Old Spot eagerly coached his younger understudy from the ground. Rusty soon could leap from his branch like a flying squirrel to catch a fat Robin or a Jay. Or he would crouch on the roof of our home, leaping down on the perched unaware...The tuna was soon rolling out on a regular basis. I was back to buying the 12 packs at Costco. Feathers and beaks protruded from my compost pile.

Then the old guy left us......nose cancer from too much time spent surfing....Spot passed on - actually a drug overdose at the Vet's. Every time I see that Vet I look timid and ask him "Doc, remember when you put Spot to sleep? Well he never woke up. I thought you said you were youth-anizing him but he didn't get any younger and he really started to smell after two weeks so I had to throw him out." that Vet has never smiled at my jokes but he is a good man. I won't hold it against him that his Youthanizer medicine didn't work. Spot was probably too old, I suppose. Now that we have established Rusty as a flying cat one can appreciate his strong tail. Tree cats often use the tail for balance. Rusty's has long, fluffy hair which makes his tail a steering device during flight. Often he would hang by his tail when positioning himself to dive bomb a birds nest below. These activities helped him to develop a strong set of lower spine muscles with tough discs.

After Spot's death Rusty wasn't up to flying for birds anymore. He doesn't crave tuna as passionately as his old teacher. Now he hides, waiting for a car to go by so he can run out in front, scaring the driver and eliciting their knee jerk reaction of slamming on the brakes. As a sprinter Rusty has no peer - after flying I guess running is kitten stuff. Even those who speed up trying to run him down have to acknowledge that he has Doppler effect hearing and just sprints harder. Only the guy with the corvette has been able to catch the tip of his tail so far.

PS. Rusty just told me he'd like this tid bit included. 1) The landlord's son, Phil saw Rusty about 1/4 mile from my house leap from the Central Freeway overpass. He said Rusty flew "...like a flying squirrel!" 2) After my neighbor died his alcoholic son moved in. As neighborhood newbee he actually called the police when Todd and I were bundling herbs for the Farmers Market at 9 PM one Friday evening. He told the police officer we were "talking too loudly..." The cop was embarrassed about it and let us be. The following week Todd and I were outside discussing the incident. Rusty suddenly scrambled up a tree, leaped into the one across the driveway then jumped onto the roof of the house where the guy called the police on us. As we watched in amazement Rusty "took a dump" on the roof of the house as Todd and me cheered him on! We laughed so hard...my ribs were later sore! Rusty was our hero for many days thereafter.

Yup. That Rusty is a cat of a different color....