The Adventures of Sabbath and Zephyr

The Adventures of Sabbath and Zephyr

Sabbath was a very small black kitty—but he was a born leader.

We do not know where his story truly begins, as he first appeared as a very cold and hungry kitten at the house of some folk living half-an-hour north of Green Bay, Wisconsin—in February, a month which had many feet of snow on the ground and a winter which reached the usual sub-zero (-40) temperatures.

He entered my life months later, in May, when my wife woke up one Sunday and proclaimed that we needed a kitty.

She spent the day looking at cats in the newspaper (this was 1997, the Internet was brand new to most, and physical newspapers were still a major means of communication.)

Each listing she called was a new disappointment—every cat had been claimed!

Mid-afternoon, she spoke with the woman who had rescued Sabbath (then named Blackie,) but not about him, about another black cat which Sabbath had brought to his new home in need of care and food!

He too, had been adopted.

By the end of the afternoon, she had called about every cat, and none were available! 　

Then the woman called back.

Her husband had told her that she should get rid of Sabbath (Blackie) too! (Not the least because of his habit of bring friends in need home for dinner…

An expedition was quickly arranged. Piling my wife and her daughter into the old Volvo wagon, we headed north.

On arrival, we found a pleasant house, with geodes, rocks and dream-catchers leading to the door—a hopeful sign these were our kind of folk!

Inside, in the kitchen, I met Sabbath for the first time.

He was small (I am 6’4” and huge,) and I reached down to pet great him...whereupon he immediately grabbed my hand with all four paws, and bit me just hard enough to draw four points of blood on the web between my thumb and forefinger. Then he rolled over and asked to be picked up. “You may take me to my home now.”

The message was clear. He was to be an equal, not a subject!

We took him home, I named him Sabbath after the band Black Sabbath...largely for the fun of it.

There was an air of predestination to the process--not one other cat was available that day...

◊ ◊ ◊ Sabbath rapidly adapted to our house and family, and within a few days I decided that I would put him in a harness and take him outside. We went out and I sat on the front steps while he checked out the immediate area. Living on a main highway, which has major traffic, despite a relatively low speed limit of 45mph, I didn't want to risk him...but as he seemed quite happy to sit and watch the world, I eventually went inside. And immediately looked out to check on him...to see his harness lying on the grass at the end of the leash. He was gone! Three days later he returned. But he lost his outside privileges. For several months, we became increasingly impressed by Sabbath as he rapidly became top cat in the household. In October, our friend Bill, who joined us for dinner most nights, came in from the rain and announced that "Something grey--not a squirrel--had run into our garage as he drove up. As we only used the garage for some storage, I was fairly uninterested, but after dinner, Bill went out to investigate. When he returned a half-hour later, he held a small grey kitten, covered in grease and dirt. After I washed the kitten, we let him run around, and Sabbath introduced himself and began teaching.