Portrait of a lesser-known feline artist

Steve Kawaratani

“I am grief.”

-- ANDREI VOZNESENSKI

“I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, his loveliness and

the hour of his death.”

-- WITH APOLOGIES

TO JOHN KEATS

I walked alone last Sunday, grieving over the loss of a friend --

my cat, Rousseau. His namesake was not the rational thinker, but

rather the lesser-known artist. But Rousseau was anything but lesser

-- a Persian with a glower and presence, which earned him top cat

honors in our brood. However, he was always a gentle and amiable

presence among family and friends.

He loved his territory, from the tall grasses of our garden to the

wilds of neighboring properties. What came home attached to his fur

would indicate where he had wandered -- sticky, blue Plumbago meant

he had ventured west into the Barker’s. Yellow pollen on his whiskers

signified Paul’s lilies. And burs in his luxuriant, black coat

denoted a trip into a nearby watercourse.

Exiled from my home this past weekend, my walk found me at Main

Beach. Musing, I recalled that Rousseau discovered me at a pet store,

surmised that I was acceptable, and sat in my lap as we drove home to

Catharine. After 16 years, he still loved to sit atop me after

dinner, waiting patiently for the catnip to be served.

Rousseau was always about economy of motion. A fastidious boy, he

was well groomed and mannered, but welcomed the assistance from the

kindly folks at Animal Crackers and the Canyon Animal Hospital. He

lost his sight a few years back, but still navigated his home

perfectly, from water bowl to the nearest sunbeam. The cat never

missed a meal or a pat on his head during our ensuing years together.

Rousseau and his brother, Mozart, made a car trip to Idaho one

year. He sat atop his kitty climber and watched the Great Basin

Desert pass by with little interest. As soon as we reached the

forests outside of Sun Valley, however, his interest was piqued. He

had never seen snow, let alone walk through it. The great coat of his

was perfect during that cold, winter visit.

Early out still, I continued to walk through Heisler Park. Freshly

pruned roses were displaying new, red leaves; continuing warm days

would soon turn them bright green. I noted that the Indian

“Hawthorne” was just coming into bud throughout the park. The dwarf

“Clara” was blooming earlier than the more ubiquitous “Pink Lady.”

The Pride of Madeira, my honeymoon blossom, was just forming flower

buds, poised for the promise of spring. Ah, to be eternally young and

optimistic.

From kitten to the equivalent of a 90-year-old human, Rousseau

lived the unlimited possibilities of being a cat to the fullest. His

love of the chase, appreciation of his garden, and knowing when to

relax were always a model for me. At the end, he left us with dignity

and a lifetime of memories that I will cherish forever. See you next

time.

* STEVE KAWARATANI is the owner of Landscapes by Laguna Nursery,

1278 Glenneyre in Laguna Beach. He is married to local artist,

Catharine Cooper, and has two cats. He can be reached at 949 497

2438, or e-mail to [email protected].