Too Good To Be True

Remember that story about a year back about the two lookalike teenage girls from Michigan who were in a car crash together? One died and the other ended up in a coma, but the bodies got switched, so the family of the dead girl was watching over the girl in the coma, while the parents of the girl in the coma was burying their daughter. Well, that’s sort of what happened to me this week.

I took Bustopher to the vet to get his age checked to make sure it WAS Bustopher, and it turned out that the cat who was identical to Bustopher was only two years old (which explains a few things) and belonged to a couple who live a few streets over. After the doctor gave him an exam and said she thought he was three or four years old, she scanned him and found his microchip which confirmed he was just two. The vet called the owner and then kept the cat until the owner could pick him up later today. I talked to the owner on the phone, and he was VERY grateful that I returned his cat, and I was happy to hear he has a good home. And once we have a baby, we’ll have so little time for the cats that it’s probably best we don’t have a new one who needs (and he did) a lot of attention. And no more stinky litterbox, cat fights, etc. But it’s a little sad/quiet around here without him, because he was so much more playful than our (old) cats. What a difference to have a young cat! He wanted to play ALL the time. I guess that was my first clue that he may not be Bustopher. My second clue was when he kissed Ben, the cat who attacked Bustopher and probably chased him away. My third was when, on the way to the vet this afternoon, he didn’t howl the entire way. Bustopher HATED cars and HATED boxes and cried bloody murder whenever I drove him to the vet.

I am reminded of Mitch Albom’s 2006 Christmas release “One More Day,” a book I didn’t like that much. In the story a man gets to spend “one more day” with his dead mother, and this week I got to spend one more day—well, four more days—with Bustopher, because I truly couldn’t tell the difference. And anyone who thinks, “Oh, I can tell the difference from the photos,” the lighting makes B2 look more gray in the second picture than he really was. They really were identical in every way. But, for the record, Martin wants it to be known that he was always skeptical, that he thought the cat seemed more like 3 years old than 8, and that he is convinced that Bustopher had a little more fluff around the neck. I’m just happy that I got to spend some time with him for a few days, and that I was reminded how much fun it is to have some kid energy around the house. There will be a lot of it come December.

This is me comparing B2 to old photos of Bustopher.

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9 Comments

Filed under Miscellaneous

9 responses to “Too Good To Be True

  1. witort

    I think Ben planted that microchip!

  2. I agree! And I think Ben had a chat with the vet, too, because when she examined him, she said, “Oh, this is a girl,” which is why I had her scan him for a microchip. Then, after she called the owners, one of the other vets said, “This isn’t a girl, this is a boy.” Hmm. Fishy.

  3. Ohman–I’m glad for this sense of closure for you–though I’m sure it is a bit wistful. You have put this last visit into such a healthy perspective!

    Hats off to you and “Bustopher” and Bustopher.

  4. Ani

    Boohoohoo…I couldn’t even meet B2!

  5. I know where he lives (approximately)!

  6. mel

    oh! I just saw Mitch Albom on Oprah, too.

    Well, it wasn’t the happy ending you thought, but it was good of you to give this Bustopher back to his people. (Was Bustopher fixed? Is it possible he’s Bustopher, Jr?)

  7. Bustopher WAS fixed. In fact, I read over a woman’s shoulder on BART this morning that the CA state assembly passed a bill that approves fines for everyone who does NOT fix their pets? I didn’t read all the details, but that just seems wrong!

  8. LunaKit

    bye bye B2.

  9. m++

    B2 was an awesome cat. I knew I liked him when on our first encounter he put both his paws on my shoulder and rubbed a big, fat, wet french cat kiss on my cheek. It was love at first rub. I was like, Bustopher must be *really* happy to be home after two years. Yeah, that made sense to me, and I loved snuggling back with such a friendly joyous cat. I liked how he really, almost consciously, tried to convince us he was Bustopher when we did the photo comparisons. Look at him just settling in next to the laptop as if he is saying “come on guys, don’t give me up, its me, its me!”. Then as the days went on, I started to dread that the vet would give a different age estimate, or find a chip, and we would have to give B2 up. I wanted to keep him, and perhaps don’t have the same high moral vein as others when it comes to cats — having given so many strays away to good homes as a kid, I kind of think a happy cat should just stay where it is — happy. Plus, Meghan was so happy too, which was great to see, and I have huge vicarious guilt that Ben was so mean… Alas, cat lovers abound in these parts, and the B2 is back to his original crew. I want to visit him! I plan to alter my jogging route to swing by his parts. B1, B2, I miss you.

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