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Sweet child o' mine, with claws

Brunch with Becks is an ongoing weekend series where I wax poetic on tales from my life starting with the 9 Truths. Yes, I too can’t comprehend that all these odd occurrences have happened to me.

My life was changing quickly at the ripe old age of 19. I moved out of the dorms and into my first apartment—a beautiful studio with built-ins for the staggering rent of $240 a month.

After settling in, I went to the Humane Society, just to look at the cute kittens. I really wasn’t planning on walking out the door with one. Silly me!

But she found me! This 8-week old kitten looked into my eyes and immediately became a part of me.

She was a tortoiseshell with a dark brown stripe down her nose and a bright pink tongue. I would brag that she had 1 beige paw with pink pads and 3 brown paws with brown pads.

She needed a name though. She lived the first two weeks of her life with me nameless as I agonized over the perfect moniker. The name had to fit her personality and we needed to get to know each other.

My boyfriend at the time, the guy whose name wasn’t Chip, had just moved in with his friends. They were Guns N’ Roses loving fraternity boys. They had drunken parties and they hated cats. This could be a problem.

They joked that I should name her Slash, after the lead guitarist from their favorite band.

I wasn’t convinced. Yet.

My most prized possession was my Keith Haring print that I bought at his Pop Shop in New York City while I was in high school. It hung proudly on my wall, centered above my futon.

Standing on her back legs on the top of the futon, she reached up and tore through the print with one slash. With that one action, she not only found her name but also her cover. The boys would think I named her after their Slash.

And it worked! I think the boys even began to like her although they would never admit it.

Soon after, the frat boys brought home a very cute black lab puppy. Of course, they named her Izzy, after Izzy Stradlin from the same band. Thank god none of our pets ended up being named Axl!

Slash was my constant companion for 14 years. She was there for every broken heart and all the happy moments, every move from Milwaukee to Chicago to Detroit, and everything in between. She was my best friend, my sweet child, my baby girl.

Slash even met my husband. She hissed at Andy and attempted to claw his face. I’m pretty sure that was her nod of approval. Or maybe, she was afraid that someone else was about to become the love of my life.

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Reader Comments (3)

OK, that's just darn cute. I love her and her tortoiseshell fur! And I have to say, the name Slash is bad a$$ for many reasons. Cats have an amazing ability to adapt to every situation and warm our hearts. Thanks for sharing another piece of yourself :)

May 16, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterLaurenWeber84

Such a sweet story. I love the name Slash. I also have a really weird obsession with him. We'll save that for another time...doesn't really go with the cat theme for this post. ;)

May 16, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterElena

Lauren & Elena,
Thank you! She really was a special cat. I only have one picture of her as a kitten and I can't find it. Of course, she was in my liquor cabinet when the pic was snapped and I was only 19 so that might be a good thing. ;-)

May 16, 2011 | Registered CommenterBecks Davis

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