Yesterday was Loki-versary. You probably don’t know who Loki is, let alone why his anniversary is important. Loki is my girlfriend’s cat. An American Domestic with dark stripes and an M on his forehead. Two years ago he came into her (our) life (lives). Loki has to be the most socialized, people-friendly cat I have ever met, and resembles that of a dog in his need to follow any human that will give him attention. Aside from the respiratory condition, causing him to leave chunky boogers on walls and his penchant for knocking things over in the middle of the night for attention it has been smooth sailing. That wouldn’t make a great article. The story of how we got him, however, is.
April 18, 2014. Easter weekend. It was a Friday and there’s a good chance we weren’t doing anything interesting. The we in this story being myself and my girlfriend, Danielle, though we were not dating yet. We were driving around, killing time, and waiting for our friend Amanda to get out of work or some other commitment, so we could all do nothing together. Danielle and I went back home to the house she was renting with mutual friends. No more than a few seconds from stepping into the living room, I get a phone call. The voice on the other end was frantic.
“Hey.” It was Amanda. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“Try me.” I replied. (It should be noted that I probably didn’t say this, but in setting up my character as someone with instinctive coolness, a lackadaisical reply would hint coolness to you, the reader.)
Amanda told me that, as she was turning down the street, a cat charged her car in what almost seemed to be a suicide attempt. She hit the brakes and threw her hazard lights on. She explained to me that the cat began playing with her tires, batting them as if they were toys.
“Boo. Scat. Go away.” She said in a Disney-esque delicate voice of a character that would later befriend woodland creatures. This fragile command would be offset by panicked gasps as the cat jumped up to her barely cracked window. Naturally, Danielle and I had to check this out.
Loki’s first picture, outside Amanda’s car
Amanda was only a block away from the house but we decided to take a car on the off-chance this cat was rabid and we’d have to hide, Cujo style. We came upon the Ford Focus, hazards blinking. In horror movie fashion, I had hung up the phone. We approached the car but didn’t see a cat at first, thinking that maybe we had scared it off, until a tiny four legged shape emerged from the back of the car. It immediately ran over to us.
“Meow.” It said, for it was all it could say.
The cat was ragged. It likely had been outside for a little while. It meowed and meowed, following us when we walked. This cat wasn’t rabid. It was just desperately scared to the point of self-destruction. Knowing Loki the way I know him now, it is quite possible he may have been only been out mere minutes before realizing he wasn’t getting attention. Danielle and I (but mostly Danielle. I had no money at this point in time) opted to take this cat to the vet to get him checked out. Amanda, being allergic to cats, didn’t want to chance sneezing and hives, and went home lightly traumatized. The cat jumped right into Danielle’s car.
The cat was healthy, save for a respiratory condition he likely got in the company of other stray cats. In the month or so that followed, Danielle made attempts to find the owners of this cat, but only received phone calls from literal crazy cat ladies who were missing a cat. And so the cat got a name, Loki, and Loki got a home. Considering how socialized Loki is, he must have had another home at one time. I do know that he has a better home now.
And that is why we call April 18th Lokiversary. The day a random cat nearly killed himself for something better and the day Danielle became a cat-person.