Why the name Bumper you ask? Well, when he was a wee kitten, Bumper would run so very, very fast and he couldn’t make the turns as he would rush into another room. BAM right into the door jam. Bumper was the perfect name. Of course when we told the Veterinarian his name, he asked why. At first our dear Doctor thought he might have a neurological problem but when we explained things everything was cool.
Now Bumper’s middle name was Sticker, because that is what he would be if he got out of the house and into the street. He would become a ‘Bumper Sticker.’ He loved to sit on the cement in the sun on the back porch. We wouldn’t let him out too often because of the coyotes in the neighborhood.
One time he slipped out the door and didn’t come back right away. He got into a tussle with another cat and received a vicious bite on his hind end. He developed an infection and had to stay at the Vet’s office for a few days but he recovered. He wasn’t to quick to roam around after that. I guess you could say ‘Lesson learned.’
He was a Maine Coon mix. At his top weight he was 15 pounds of cat and fur. Oh the fur. Lots of it. You could always tell where he had been as he left fur as his calling card. If he really liked a spot, lots and lots of fur.
The Maine Coon is the largest domesticated breed of cat. It has a distinctive physical appearance and valuable hunting skills. It is one of the oldest natural breeds in North America, specifically native to the state of Maine, where it is the official state cat.
The Maine Coon has a large bone structure, rectangular body shape, and long, flowing coat. The breed’s colors vary, and it’s known for its intelligence and gentle personality.
Bumper would be at my side when I woke up in the morning, nearby at all times during the day and again by my side as I would head to bed. In the morning, Mr. Bumper would wait patiently for me to brush my teeth etc and then lead the way toward the kitchen and his food bowl. Every morning this ritual was repeated. Heaven forbid that any of the silver portion on the bottom of his bowl showed. He might starve if I left the house for the day. Bumper would look at me then look at his bowl, repeat, repeat and repeat again until I would lift his bowl and deem it full enough or fill it to the brim. He would quickly jump up and check out his bowl. Once satisfied enough food was indeed present, a quick meow and all was good.
One time when I was out of town for a few months, Bumper was not a happy camper when I returned. He sat next to me and then BIT me on the arm. That was quite a shock, to say the least. I shoved him off the arm of the sofa and tended to my wound. A little bit later, Mr. Bumper crouched low and began to stalk towards me. I grab a tile game that is in a bag shaped like a banana and threw it towards him. My aim was a tad off as I hit him unintentionally. Oh boy, he skedaddled out of the room. Any time after that, if he gave me that ‘look’ again, I’d grab that ‘banana’ and shake it. Whoosh off he went into another room.
Mr. Bumper was a character sometimes he would meow at the front door right before the bell would ring or a knock could be heard. He was a great ‘watch cat’ as I called him. So Bumper, after almost 17 years and as you travel across the Rainbow Bridge, know that you were well loved and cherished.
Play in the grass and bask in the sun.
Love you Buddy.