Where did I leave off in the story of my first kitty. Oh yeah, Eugene picked me to be his Mom. He'd already won over the decision-maker of my step-father by showing his fearless heart. He climbed that pant leg like he knew exactly what he needed to do. He won my heart the same way, by showing my he would protect me in the face of any adversity. He remained a kitten of his meow for his whole life. He would have fought anyone and anything to protect me.
I think Eugene got his name on the car ride home. Mom asked if I knew what I would call my new kitten and as I recall "Eugene." is what popped out. I have no idea why I thought of it. Well, that's not true, I thought of it because it fit him perfectly. He wasn't fancy but he was loyal and fearless.
I don't have any photos of him, but a family friend painted a painting of him. He was that kind of boy, worthy of art and song. I will try to take a picture of the painting soon and upload it for your viewing pleasure. For now I will tell you he had a classic tuxedo coat. Although it did look a little too small for him. His black jacket and pants were a bit high-water.
He was a rough and tumble boy from the start, full of playful energy. When it was time for lovin he would lay in my lap and allow himself to be molded into any position. My Mom called him a play-dough kitty. It was like he became boneless.
As he grew into a full grown kitty he became a solid brick of fur-covered muscle. Although he was the biggest, baddest cat on the block he remained my play-dough boy at home. Eugene lived the life of a double agent. I'll tell you about his life outside the nest next, but his life in the house was full of snuggles.
He was the sweetest and toughest Momma's boy ever. Golly I loved that boy. I still just love a tuxie cat.