We are going to have a special Memorial Day post on Monday, so for today’s Photo Hunt, my human wanted me to tell you a little bit about her cat before me — a memorial of sorts. I’ve mentioned her a few times, but I never met her. She died about eight months before I came to live with my human. This cat’s name was Harlot and she was a longhaired calico.
Do not let her innocent eyes and sweet face fool you. She was tough, she was mean, and she was a mass murderess. No bird, squirrel, rat or mouse was safe when she was around. Sometimes people weren’t either. Once a neighbor lady tried to pet her and Harlot scratched her so badly that she had to go to the doctor and my human had to pay the lady’s bill. It was easier to get away with such bad behavior in the 1980s.
Why she was named Harlot: that was the one thing she answered to when my human was trying to name her. She came from the streets of San Pedro, CA. It was August of 1986 and my human had been down there for a music festival. When she and her friend were walking back to the car, they saw a bunch of kids playing with a kitten. The kitten’s forehead had been shaved into some sort of punk rock ‘do, although she seemed oblivious to this (most street kittens aren’t fashionistas). Of course my human wound up taking the kitten home, and the kitten was perfectly happy with this arrangement — until she found out that my human already had another cat! She was mad about that, and she and the other cat never did make friends. When he died, in fact, Harlot was perfectly fine about it. It meant that she had my human all to herself.
It is no wonder that this kitty answered to the name Harlot — she was a groupie! My human interviewed lots of rock bands, and Harlot tried to kiss up to every one of them. For a few weeks, the living room was rented out to a singer who was homeless after a European tour, and he was friends with Ian Astbury of the Cult. One day Ian came over and within two seconds, Harlot was giving him a lap dance. She was a hussy. She also decided that the trashcans out in back of the apartment belonged to her and her alone. Any other cat who tried to dig through her trash got a beating.
Then the horrible day came: my human moved to a house on a big, overgrown hill that had only one trashcan… with a lid. Harlot was inconsolable — until she realized she now had a new hobby: killing every living thing smaller than her that lived on this big hill. She would catch squirrels that were almost as big as she was (she was little like me, only a bit over seven pounds). One time she came home with a special treat, which she offered to share with my human on the backyard pavement: a neatly severed squirrel head. The thing could have been mounted, it was so perfect. But after giving her a proper thank you, my human declined the gift, and Harlot picked up the head and took it away to enjoy by herself.
See, Harlot loved my human in a way that was fierce and feral. They were more than pals, they were partners in a hostile, kill or be killed world. More than once, Harlot avoided certain death. She escaped coyotes and cars with barely a scrape and refused to let my human make her an indoor cat. Harlot could no more have stayed indoors than my human could have ever held a 9 to 5 job. She was bad tempered and utterly devoted and had the loudest purr of any cat my human ever lived with.
Eventually my human bought a house of her own and when Harlot wanted attention, she climbed the tree outside her home office window and yelled at her. The windows in the living room were almost always left open so Harlot could come and go as she pleased. Never mind the fact that they were almost two stories up — that was her preferred entrance and exit. That house was also where Harlot was diagnosed with the bone cancer that would eventually kill her at the age of 15-1/2. The vet gave her a few months to live. She lasted a year and a half. And until my human sold that house, six months before Harlot died, she was still climbing the tree, jumping through the living room windows and killing small, unsuspecting creatures. Even with a tumor on her shoulder.
Years ago, my human’s boyfriend drew her a Valentine’s Day card. It showed Harlot devouring a bloody heart. Some cats leave paw prints on your soul. Harlot left raw, bleeding claw marks.
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Awww… sounds a lot my dearly departed Lua. Although she had been a loving mother she was not amused when the last of her four kittens never moved out (thought I explained to her that this was typical of Spanish males) and she was visibly appalled when one day I brought home a little black street cat. Cranky to the end, she was. And I still miss her.
It was a tough time for me to post up this week as I was so unwillingly to dig out the photos of my beloved girl who went over the bridge last year. I could flood my keyboard again as I still miss her a lot. Eventually I have to come out with a stray instead.
Not a cat person but I have had a dog the like of which has never been seen before and has proven to be irreplaceable in the years since his passing. I totally understand the grief of losing Harlot. I know of a Mehitabel who was written about by Don Marquis who was an unrepentant alleycat
She was such a beauty but definitely a free spirit among cats.. Anyone who thinks that all cats are the same ha never lived with cats!
She’s so lovely.
Happy PH, mine is posted here.
Have a great weekend.
Harlot sounds like an awesome cat. She sure made the most of her life!
That’s a wonderful memorial to Harlot. She sounds like quite the purrsonality!
She’s adorable…made me miss my Mozart!
A very nice memorial, Sparkle.
Harlot was beautiful…
Some kitties live in your hearts forever. All cats are loved but there is always one that leaves its mark really deeply.
Harlot was a beautiful cat. She sure knew how to live life, too.
A very touching tribute to a lost love. Thanks for dropping by my blog and I hope I see you again soon.
Harlot sounds like our Mewmew. Harlot was a real tough cat. Glad she found you Mom and had such a good home. That was a great post about Harlot.
Have a super week end.
Harlot was a beauty, for sure! I guess her mean streak was an overcompensation for her looks. She couldn’t have the other kitties thinking she was a weak little girl, could she? This was a very nice memorial.
Wow, what a cat! What a story!
I am not actually playing PH this week. Too busy making jewellery. Just stopped by to drop EC and became intrigued by Harlot’s sweet face. You are such a good writer, Sparkle. Sara-Cat admires you so much. Today is Sara’s mother, Cajsa Mamma-Cat’s Birthday. She is eleven years old today.
Hugs,
Anna
Check out my s-post when you get the time:
Anna’s S-words
Hi there ~ I’m visiting from the Blog Hop. Yours is really fun! I enjoyed your nice tribute to Harlot. I have a cat-themed blog about my cat art, my cats, foster cats & other random stuff. Stop by if you like. Have a great weekend ~ meow!
Wow. Harlot was a helluva Cat. What a wonderful tribute to such a great purrson. A Cat like Harlot is one in a million, for sure.
xx MomKat Trish
Cute one.
I finally came up with one. Please check it out here ; http://www.slowtrav.com/blog/eden/
Harlot was very beautiful and she was quite the cat! We enjoyed reading her story!
I LOVE this story. Expect to see Harlot appear in some fiction of mine one day. Seriously. And your last line? Brilliant, my friend.
@Susan My human has an unfinished novel, and there is a cat in it based on Harlot. Of course, the name and looks were changed to protect the guilty…
Wow, that was quite a story. Very interesting and amazing how cats each have their own unique personalities. That Harlot was quite a cat.
Harlot sounds like a fabulous feline. I have had many kitties in my life, all loved, and missed and mourned. Max, Bratty, Boo, Smoker, Zuzu – all crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Now we share our lives with Frankie LuLu Belle, Zeke and BB. If you want to see my husband cry just ask about Boo.
Your writing, Miss Sparkle, is breathtaking! I’d imagine your mom taught you everything she knows about writing and because of that I have convinced myself to purchase one of your mom’s books as soon as I finish the two that have been waiting for me on my dresser.
I would never have known that you existed, Miss Sparkle, if it weren’t for the Blog Hop and if it weren’t for the fact that I absolutely have no life other than my life as a professional pet sitter. I scour the internet looking for (what else) all things animal-related after spending an entire day with my furry clients which makes no sense at all, does it?
As you may have guessed, I am now your newest fan and I will tell all of my furry friends to introduce themselves to you, I promise!
Also, could you ask your mom if she would like to either (a) be a guest writer on my blog or (b) answer a few interview questions via e-mail so that I can brag about her on my blog or (c) meet me in person so I can say I was once in the presence of a really famous writer? Pretty please?
Thank you so much for joining the Blog Hop!
XOXO-April
That is a lovely memorial to Harlot. She certainly sounds like she was one of a kind. Once met, never forgotten.
Some cats do leave one heck of an impression.
Actually, this is a lovely memorial to a memorable and I bet lovable cat. You must miss her a lot.
What a wonderful memorial to Harlot. What a ladycat!
What a great tribute to Harlot!! The innocent looking ones are always the ones you hafta watch out for! Thanks for sharing her story!
What a great tribute to a fierce beautiful hunter. She was a lovely kitty with enough catitude to spare.
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Sparkle, JT Locke. JT Locke said: Photo Hunt: Memorial http://bit.ly/coGCF6 via @AddToAny [...]
We all have nice indoor kitties now, but sometimes I miss those wild days. What a remarkable cat.
such a beautiful cat story. I’m sure, naughty and fierce as she was, Harlot’s in cat heaven now. I was kinda taken with her innocent eyes and beautiful face initially but as I read on the post, I can’t help smile at her adventures. She surely was a handful but then again, most handfuls leave deeper paw marks in our hearts. have a nice weekend!
That was a tough cat.
This is such a wonderful idea! I love your blog and it’s truly exactly what I had in mind when beginning my blog 2 years ago. Your pledge idea is fantastic. Thanks so much for thinking of Coco. II means a lot! Just having a photo of her on your beautiful site would mean so much, but I’m sorry I messed up your plans. Again thank you so much for thinking of her and all you do!
Harlot was soo beautiful and sounds like such a fun kitty. She brought her owner lots of happiness and good times. I hope she and Coco are playing at the bridge together
Harlot sounds like she was one heck of a cat. What a great memorial to her.
Wonderful tale (tail) Sparkle…but now I’m sad because your memorial reminded me of all the special furry ones I’ve had in my life and have had to say good bye to….gone, but never ever forgotten.
A wonderful tribute to Harlot. She sounds like she was indeed a great cat.
Great tribute! She really enjoyed life fully. Thank you for sharing her story…
Criminy! I’m last in this long line of comments. Sigh.
Harlot killed because she had learned to kill to survive. My kitties wouldn’t know how to kill a bug because their mommy’s didn’t teach them how to do it. They have always lived in a home, even though we got them from shelters–one shelter was a house and the other fostered their kitties out to homes. They are considered “pampered” in some places, I guess.
Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to fight Harlot for space in the house, Sparkle. She sounds like one tough cookie and a tough act to follow.
It sounds like she loved Mommeh a LOT.
Nicole Richie named her kid “Harlow” but I always read it “Harlot.”
My cat kills everything, or used to. She hasn’t this year but last year and previous she would decapitate a squirrel or rabbit and leave the body in the yard and the eyeballs on the welcome mat. I never found the heads.
Mom says she is sure that Harlot and her Roger Ramjet would have enjoyed hunting together. We loved the story of the severed squirrel head!
[...] for a couple of hours. (Pretty easy work, if you ask me!) This was around the time her old cat, Harlot, died. She did not want Binga to get used to being an only cat (she already sensed Binga’s [...]
[...] color patches. And when torties are mostly-white, in the United States we refer to them as calico. Harlot, the cat before me, was a calico. And when the black is more gray and the red or orange is more of [...]
[...] Ever since I’ve been here, I don’t think a day hasn’t gone by that my human hasn’t missed the cat before me. [...]
[...] a lot miffed. She is at the BlogHer conference this weekend, which is actually kind of cool because my blog post about the cat before me is one of the BlogHer Voices of the Year honorees. What is NOT so good is that my human stole my [...]
[...] I mention that my human already had a cat when Binga came home? The cat before me had been diagnosed with the bone cancer that would kill [...]
[...] About a week and a half ago, my human came across this photo of a cat she once had and since he was jet black — not a hair of white on him — I thought I would share it on Friday the 13th. She had been looking for this photo for years! She had him in the 1980s, even before Harlot. [...]