Dogs of the North The Pack Archie

In Memoriam

Archie was the sole survivor of his litter, which had been starved, brutalized, sealed in a bag and thrown in a creek to die. My neighbors found him, rescued him, but didn't want a cat of their own. I was a college student, living in an apartment off campus, and since my resources were limited, told Archie he could stay with me until he felt better. He died with his head resting in my hands over nineteen years later.

I named him, "Archimedes," after the Greek mathematician, but called him "Archie" for short. I could write volumes about the cat! He had an independent, yet benevolent air. When Isaac, his life long buddy was dying, Archie found him in the middle of a cold night and sat close beside him to keep him warm. He was a sensitive cat, who protected me like a guard dog if he thought someone might mean me harm. When he was still a young cat, he once attacked a repairman who made a pass at me. And as an old cat, he chased a burgler out of the house. I had gone out to the dumpster, and when I turned back toward the front door, I saw the intruder fleeing down the front steps. When I opened to door to the house, Archie stood in the entrance way, puffed up to twice his size and yowling his head off.

No one messed with Archie. When the hundred pound Malamute, Luke, stepped on his tail, Archie chased both Luke and the fifty pound Kierkegaard into the closet and kept them treed there for nearly an hour before he let them out.

Archie had more personality than any cat I have ever known, with some interesting quirks of character. For example, he hated to be called a "bean head." My dad used that expression quite a bit, but when he applied it to Archie, the cat would give a disgruntled meow that he used when displeased about something. I never quite figured out what bothered Arch about that term, but I did notice that my dad refrained from using it around him. Archie commanded that kind of respect.

He was the most intelligent cat I have ever known. And very helpful when he wanted to be. He always helped me train kittens to ride in the car. I'd put Arch on the front seat with the kitten when we started a long drive, and Archie would wash, or play with it, as we went along. If the kitten tried to get off the seat, Arch would box its ears.

Archie and I went through some good times and some lousy ones, and through it all, he always made me feel as if he was looking out after me. He seemed to be in control, no matter what the situation.

He was a unique, entertaining, and always affectionate friend.

Read about Isaac.