Ranger was the first cat Courtney and I got as a team in 2010, following the five (!) we brought separately to the relationship. My last of two “solo” cats had passed the year before, and we were down to two still in the house. We chose a two-year-old named “Barry,” who won our favor with his ultra-friendly demeanor and how he would flop in our laps. We renamed him Ranger, partly because it’s just a good name, partly because I had the hope that the Texas Rangers would win a championship during his lifetime.
Ranger was both the most precious and annoying cat ever. Ranger was vocal. Oh, he was vocal. Meowing at us, at friends, at repair people, at nothing at all in the middle of the night. He is also the reason I had to completely re-cover our back porch with a heavy, vinyl-coated screen, because he would tear through cheap screening to romp in the back yard. Ah, well.
Ranger was without guile, sincerely adored people and would become the best friend of anyone who would pay him attention. Because I’ve worked out of my house for ages, he was maybe slightly more “my” cat during his earlier years, but when Courtney was pregnant he spent as much time as possible propped on her belly, and when the pandemic sent Courtney home, he decided her home office would be his, too.
Ranger started having problems with arthritis and his kidneys early last year even though he was only 14 by our reckoning. The shelter can only guess the ages of adult cats, of course, and he may have been older when we got him. He hung around just long enough for Texas to win a championship.
No cat was ever sweeter. Goodbye, Ranger.
27 Feb 2010, Austin Animal Shelter
7 Nov 2023