Enzo: An Introduction
"Life is an adventure." --Steve Zissou
But First… Louis
More than three years have passed since I had to say goodbye to my dearly departed and much beloved cat Louis, who left us on a Friday night in September 2021. I adopted the 2-year-old former farm cat from PAWS Cat City in Seattle in July 2005. He had been surrendered to the shelter less than 48 hours before I showed up and I was instantly drawn to this shy guy, the one cat who wasn’t fighting for my attention but instead hiding in a box in the corner of the room. He was my longtime companion and best friend and together we drove across the country in the spring of 2010 to move to Brooklyn, where we lived in three different apartments over 11 years.
I’ve lost my father, brother, mother, and several good friends, but adjusting to life without Louis was a new level of soul-piercing grief I wasn’t prepared for. So many people reached out to offer their condolences, many who only knew Louis through my social media channels. Friends offered comfort with cards, conversations, texts, emails, and donations to pet charities in Louis’ name, surprise hero deliveries from Defonte’s, taking me out for pizza, and rounds of Kölsch and sake at The Long Island Bar (where a painting of Louis by artist Matt Timms of All the Bad Cats hangs in the permanent collection in The Lombardi Room)
I dedicated my book Distillery Cats to Louis in 2017, and his death inspired a number of thoughtful tributes, from Grand Army, one of my favorite neighborhood bars dedicating their Fall 2021/Winter 2022 Cats-themed menu to the memory of Louis to cocktails created in is honor at Hog & Hominy in Memphis and Per Diem in Lititz, Pennsylvania.
Since Louis’ passing, so many well-intentioned friends and virtual strangers alike would ask when I was going to adopt another cat—the second most stressful query other than “Have you finished your next book yet?” I was never ready to go through with it for so many reasons. This quote from the Ted Lasso program is something I turn over on my head often: “I like to think grief is the price we pay for truly loving someone. And it’s worth every penny.”
But recently my sentiments shifted and last Friday night, on Good Friday, I welcomed a new cat into my home, and my life.
Introducing Enzo
It was a Saturday night three weeks ago when scrolling through @distillerycats I came across a photo posted by Brooklyn Animal Action of a 1-year-old cat named Karl caught my attention, as did the urgency in his need for a new foster home.
Karl was a 1-year-old cat who had been abandoned in an alleyway in Kensington, Brooklyn, who was described as “the friendliest cat in the borough” and a “beautiful brown tabby with the brightest eyes, always curious to know what is happening around him.” Other fun facts included his desire to “pal around” and play fetch with his favorite stuffed felt mouse and “happiest when curled beside you on the couch while you read or work.” His profile ended with “Karl is most content when near his friends, he is surely a people's cat who relishes your company and will be your best forever feline friend.”
I was sold. The next day I filled out an application and started the process to adopt him.
