Confession time, my friends.
Yours truly has what might be classifiable as an obsession with big creatures.
These are not necessarily the biggest of all kinds of creatures. Rather, the subjects of my fascination and extra special adoration are large among their kinds.
For example, once upon a time, at a magical aquarium in Mystic, CT, I shared an actual connection with a very large, very flabbery, beautiful beluga whale named Inuk. There were witnesses! Inuk and I spent a pretty long time gazing at and appreciating each other on that misty, quiet day. Our special time was possible because another large creature and I were the only two visitors braving the chill, gray damp just to spend more time with the belugas before heading home.
And “home” brings us back around to the other large creature.
He is my co-cat parent, my partner in everything, my best friend, and my co-signee on very many things. We shall call him M (he is MINE, after all). Now, I recognize that M is not the very largest of our species, but he far surpasses average…in many things, not just size. To provide some perspective, there are football players and sumo rikishi who would be impressed by M’s stature, bone size, and height. Also, we try cars on for size. Test drives are rare for us, because most cars don’t fit M (worse, they have to fit me too, and I’m a fair bit shorter than average).
So, you see, there is just something about bigness, sturdiness, and guyness for which this short, wobbly woman has a strong affinity. Considering this affinity, it should come as no surprise that I am regularly, really, and regally wowed by Wilbur and Bellamy. They are two totally righteous, and fairly sizable, dudes.
Bellamy, you’ve read about before, so I’ll spare you too much retread. However, I will add that he is a special lump of love (usually to be found burrowed under a blanket). For your friendly neighborhood blogger, post-shift is always improved by a happily leg-crushing visit with Bellamy in all his magnificent largeness.
That leaves us now to focus on another bigly guy, one I’m still learning more about even though we’ve been pals for a few years now. I’m talking about none other than the BCISC (Big Cat in Suite C), Wilbur. (Disambiguation: this Wilbur is our subject. There have been others by the same name, in different sizes. All great, all different.)
Wilbur has been mentioned here and there in other blogs, but now is the time for a deeper dive. Just let your eyes take in that beautiful coat – the color, the softness! Now, take in that gorgeous girth. Solid and sturdy, Wilbur is a cat among cats.
I like Wilbur.
Wilbur seems to like me back.
For years now (minus an unworthy, unmentionable, unlovely, unwanted gap), when I’m visiting Carrot, Wilbur will swing around for a quick visit, or I’ll go over to him – depending on his body language – and offer a scratch on the head. Mostly, that has been the sum total of our relationship, at least the part that I’ll share. Our conversations are private, and Wilbur asked me not to divulge confidences.
I will say this: after a chat with the Tabby’s Place volunteer cat behaviorist extraordinaire, I ventured to rub my fingers gently along the side of Wilbur’s sweet, fuzzy face.
Everything has changed.
Once again, I’m falling for the big guy. As with many, past and present, this one has a white belly and eyes that can stop you in your tracks. He also has a preppy pink nose that is perfectly coordinated with his grey tuxedo.
I need to be very careful with Wilbur, and not just because his orange collar tells me so. My heart tells me so. My four cats at home tell me so. M tells me so.
But, somewhere out there is the perfect place for this fine feline.
Wilbur is a big boy, and he is very deserving of some very big love.