An Ode to My Orange Cat, Leo Tiberius Cumberland
When Leo arrived at my house, he wasn’t supposed to stay.
He was a foster kitten. The plan was simple: to give him a safe place to land, help him get settled, and eventually find him a permanent home.
Leo Had Other Plans
From the beginning, he carried himself with an unusual degree of confidence for a small orange kitten missing part of one ear. To this day, no one knows how he lost it. Leo refuses to discuss the matter.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t fostering a kitten. I was being evaluated by one.
Over the following months, Leo conducted a thorough inspection of the premises. He tested the furniture, investigated every cardboard box, monitored household operations, and established ownership of anything left unattended for more than 30 seconds.
He developed a particular interest in hair ties, which he retrieves and delivers with the dedication of a hunting dog. He learned how to turn lights on and off. He patrols the house at odd hours. He supervises my black Lab, Buddy, who is approximately 10 times his size and somehow accepts this arrangement.
The Two of Them Have Become an Unlikely Team
Recently, someone came to the front door. Buddy immediately launched into full security mode, barking until the potential threat moved along. Leo retreated beneath the couch and observed the situation from a safe distance. Once the danger had passed, he emerged, rubbed affectionately against Buddy, and settled down beside him.
I had never seen him do that before.
It looked very much like a performance review.
“Acceptable work,” the cat seemed to say.
Buddy appeared pleased.
The Foster Kitten Became Part of the Family
Orange cats have a reputation for being eccentric. Leo does little to challenge that stereotype. He has spent considerable time yelling from inside boxes, sitting in shoes, and objecting to decisions that do not involve him.
Yet somewhere along the way, the foster kitten who wasn’t supposed to stay became part of the family.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened.
Maybe it was when he started greeting me at the door. Maybe it was when he curled up nearby every evening. Maybe it was when I realized that many of the stories I tell now somehow involve an orange cat.
What I do know is that the house would feel strangely incomplete without him.
Not All Arrivals Are Noisy and Expected
The truth is that some animals arrive in our lives quietly. They don’t ask permission. They don’t announce their intentions. They simply show up, make themselves at home, and gradually convince us that they belonged there all along.
Perhaps that’s true of more than animals.
At some point in life, you stop trying to control exactly how everything unfolds. Then one day, a grandchild is living with you, a dog becomes your shadow, a foster kitten stays forever, and somehow your life becomes richer than the plan ever was.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, a one-eared orange kitten showed up, made himself at home, and quietly became a permanent member of the household.
Leo has never admitted this was his plan.
Then again, he rarely explains himself.
And if you ask about the missing ear, he still objects.
Leo’s adventures continue with Buddy in the Buddy & Leo Chronicles at Dancing Dingo.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What can you share about your pet’s character? How did you come about to have a pet? Who owns whom? How do you get along?
When my husband passed away 11-1/2 years ago my daughter said I needed a cat.I hadn’t had a cat since I was a teenager.I said okay but it would have to be declawed. I could never do that to an animal but those were my terms.A month later Redmond arrived.He was about 2 years old.When my daughter opened the carrier door he hightailed it to the basement.We never saw him that evening.When I woke up the next morning he was at the foot of my bed on my side.That surprised me.He was delivered to my daughter’s office and was with her for the afternoon and she was staying with me at the time.Yet it was my bed he was on.How intuitive is that? Uncanny.Eleven years later he’s still my best bud.
Deborah, thank you so much for sharing Redmond’s story. I smiled when I read about him spending his first night in the basement, only to appear at the foot of your bed the very next morning. Somehow, he had already decided exactly where he belonged. Cats have an uncanny way of finding the person who needs them most, often long before we realize we need them. I’m so glad Redmond found you, and that eleven years later he’s still your best bud. Stories like yours are exactly why I wanted to write An Ode to My Orange Cat. Thank you for taking the time to share it with me. And I have to admit…I love Redmond already. I can picture him making a dramatic exit to the basement, leaving everyone wondering if they’d ever see him again…only to quietly appear the next morning at the foot of the bed as if to say, “I’ve thought it over. This will do.” That’s such a cat way of beginning a friendship.
I LOVE THIS!!!! I’m on my 3rd orange cat. I’ve had others but the orange ones are definitely creatures unto themselves. Don’t tell Fancy and Pippa but Little Guy (24 lbs!), TommyBoy (after Tom Petersson of Cheap Trick) and Sir Oliver (daddy’s a Brit) have been my favourites…………SHHHH :-)
Thank you so much for sharing! I think orange cats belong to a very exclusive club with rules the rest of us are never allowed to read, Leo certainly thinks so. Please don’t worry, I won’t tell Fancy and Pippa. Thank you for sharing your wonderful trio of orange boys with me. Stories like yours remind me how many of us have been quietly adopted by one of these unforgettable cats.