When Derek came home briefly from the hospital, he was confined to a wheelchair because of the failing nerves in his spine.  You can imagine how difficult it was for him to get around the house with four cats.  Once they learned that the wheelchair was nothing to be afraid of, they began treating it like any other piece of furniture, albeit a mobile one.

Derek, on the other hand, learned quickly that he was no longer able to navigate our abode as easily as he once did, and certainly he could not maneuver around the cats by simply stepping over or around them.

This, Kako learned, equated to a captive audience.  She would scurry about the house in order to get ahead of Derek while he was trying to get from point A to point B, then she would crash in front of him and block his advance.  In her mind, this would force him to pay attention to her.  In Derek’s mind, this was cruel and unusual torment of a disabled person, something he found great joy in once he was able to get beyond the frustration of being at her mercy.

Below is a perfect example of what she would do to him: rush to a position in front of him and crash as though she had been sleeping there comfortably for some time.  Under the circumstances, Derek would have to deal with her on her terms if there was to be any hope of getting her out of the way.

“There is no answer to most questions about the cat. She has kept herself wrapped in mystery for some 3,000 years, and there’s no use trying to solve her now.”

— Virginia Roderick

[Kako]

I need a kitty fix today, so enjoy some photos of Kako from 1998 when she was but months removed from being a newly adopted kitten.

And finally a few shots of her lounging around on Derek.  He could always be found resting on the couch when he didn’t need to be up doing anything, so Kako assumed he was simply part of the furniture.