Theme music fit for a calico

October 19, 2005--One of my favorite photos of Rosie.

My parents, brother, and I endured a loss this Summer when our longtime family calico cat, Rosie, passed away.  Coming to terms with her passing was difficult, but I take heart in knowing that she left us with many wonderful memories, including these music-related ones:

Once, when I went over to my parents' place to spend time with her tabby brother, Sammy, and her, I turned on the Sirius Jam_On station.  The first song I heard was a live version of The String Cheese Incident's "Rosie."  Right on cue, Rosie strutted in, washing herself in time to the music, as the band sang, "Rosieeeee...I have no fear for you.  Rosieeeee...I know who you are."  The synchronicity there still amuses me; who would think that a fusion jam with minimalist lyrics about a spider would serve as a calico's entrance theme?

I thought back to the day after Rosie joined our family.  I put on Carole King's "Really Rosie" for her then, not knowing yet how true to her personality the lyric, "I'm really Rosie.  I'm Rosie real.  You'd better believe me.  I'm a great big deal," would turn out to be.

I'd like to believe that Rosie's larger-than-life personality is acknowledged in the afterlife and that her theme music plays whenever she enters a room.

In memory of Sammy the cat

2005: Sammy staking out a good post from which to listen to Christmas music.

It's difficult, at best, to write a blog post about a cat who has been part of your life for over 16 years, when he just passed away and you just saw him earlier this morning.  Nevertheless, Sammy was a wonderful family cat, so I'm attempting to put raw emotions to the side and forging ahead.

Sometimes, we forget how much the most important people and pets in our lives enhance our enjoyment of great music.  I'm thankful that the London Symphony by Ralph Vaughan Williams will forever be intertwined with Sammy and his calico sister, Rosie.  While looking after the cats at my parents' place one early morning several years ago, the three of us listened to this symphony on SiriusXM.  We all sat relatively still throughout the piece; at its conclusion, we gave it a collective four paws and two thumbs up.

Sammy was not only a music critic, however.  He was also a contemplative cat who pondered all the angles carefully before making a decision.  Nick Drake's "One Of These Things First" struck me as a suitable theme for him; in the song, Drake muses about the various vocations he could have chosen.  If Sammy had been human and pursued a career, I'm sure he would have had comparable reflections.

In most respects, Sammy experienced life at a more deliberate pace than his take charge calico sister, Rosie.  I've written previously about how Carole King's "Really Rosie" fit her personality well. The Call's "Let The Day Begin" captures some of her seize-the-day outlook, as well; granted, some of the "Here's to you"s would need to be changed to "Here's to me," to capture her spirit accurately.

One exception to Sammy's slower pace, however, was the excitement he exhibited when hearing and seeing birds.  When Rosie and he sat in the window and watched birds, Sammy typically took the lead in squealing with delight.  Even on the third go-around, the "Wild Bird Songs" compilation album still made him sit by a stereo speaker and squeal.

Sammy's sudden "Mowwwwwww!" that he would break into before running across the room in his younger years and the lower-pitched, voice-of-experience meow he adopted in later years had a musical quality unique to him.  Our family will never forget Sammy's signature meows or the happiness he elicited from us for more than 16 years.