Sophie Cleese: Easily Spooked Verified Female Trying to Fit In But Usually Hiding Behind the Chest of Drawers

om nom nom nom nom nom burp

We got Sophie Cleese and Tachyon as a Trojan-horse package deal in October 2013. My wife was approached at work by a kindly old lady who had two cats that needed a good home because the former owner couldn't take care of them and would Scruffles be kind enough to blah blah you know what happened next. When I walked over and learned of this, I stoically accepted my fate as the leftover passengers on the Titanic likely did, and I walked off while the deal was sealed and done. A few days later we had two more cats, bringing our federally unsupported feline sanctuary to six. We were told that Sophie Cleese (known then as Smokey) was male, so Scruffles named him Sophocles after a famous ancient Greek playwright who liked writing about kings who loved their mothers a little too much. Sophocles was a dignified and aristocratic name we both liked. The cat was a silvery longhair with a white chest, not much like an ancient Greek but dignified anyway.

Then, as we looked over Sophocles' paperwork, we discovered he was a she. Sophocles shortly became Sophie Cleese, unrelated to John Cleese of Monty Python fame.

Sophie was on the timid side with occasional bursts into assertiveness, helped out by hiding behind her favorite chest of drawers in the bedroom, with had a rear crawlspace of six inches. This serves her well, except for the time I pushed the chest against the wall and Sophie had a complete mental breakdown and hid behind the toilet. Lesson learned, we pulled the chest out a little further and Sophie perked right up.

I suggested a variety of alternate names for Sophie, but they all went out the window when Scruffles began playing with kitchen knives and looking at me with an absent stare. Maybe I will reveal some of these names in a later post. Or most likely not, because the kitchen is jammed with knives.