A friend asked me today if I've ever had an orange cat. She said she's found orange cats to be the most eccentric and "human" of all the cat colors. This is a topic for more than one column, but here's a start:
I had two orange cats in childhood and one more recently. Jingles was a Persian who died from a miscalculation made when she jumped onto a table and missed, hitting the edge and injuring her organs. Rusty was an orange tabby and my dear companion. We gave him away after my mother died. (That really shouldn’t have had to happen, but that’s another story.) Fortunately, he found a good home.
And then there was Grimmy, a semi-longhair who was chosen at the shelter by my daughter Gillian, who said he had a face like a lion. She named him after the cartoon character in "Mother Goose and Grimm." (Yup, we knew Grimm was a dog.) Grimmy was shy with strangers (like many orange cats, I’m told) and quite sensitive to our emotions. He was as soft as down, and very sweet.
I think there are big differences in cat coloration and personality. The ones who have seemed most “human” to me are the blacks. I’m particularly drawn to them, and to black & whites. One of the most remarkable cats we ever had was part black & white and part Siamese. Morgan was deeply connected to us, and his personality was unforgettable. If I ever see another like him, he’s coming home with me.