|Pronunciation of Name||Zzzzzzesty!|
|Meaning of Name||A perfect description of her zesty blend of colors and her personality too|
|Appearance||Brindled Tortie, (black, brown, cream and cinammon) & changeable eyes, sometimes green, sometimes gold|
|Main nickname||Tiger Bear, Scooter Bear, Baby Bear, Silky Bear|
|Favorite foods||Tuna, turkey, egg yolk, roast pork (the other white meat)|
|Favorite things to do||Dizzy Tiger Bear (spinning rapidly chasing a string, with leaps) and going OUTDOORS!|
|Favorite saying||Who's the baby? Zesty's the baby!|
|Favorite sleeping spots||crawl space under desk, and in closet|
|Favorite time of day||Bedtime|
|Favorite day||No preference|
She is the baby of the family, and acts accordingly. She has perfected what I call her 'baby act' which consists of plainitive cries (she has many expressive meows, depending on what she wants, from pitiful, to sad, to sleepy, to hungry, etc) and rolling over on her side with her front paws folded and her neck arched. She looks adorable and knows it. Her favorite saying would have to be, "Who's the baby? Zesty's the baby."
She has a number of names that she will respond to; Zesty, Zzzzeeeessssttttyyy, Baby Girl, Tiger Bear, Tigey Bear and Jungle Kitty are among them.
She is a brindled tortie, (tortiseshell), which describes her coloring, not her breed. She is all blacks, and browns, and creams and cinnamons. She is not spotted, hence the brindled, she looks as if she were painted to achieve her blend of colors. She has a long tail that is very expressive, depending on her mood. She is tall and rangy, (that is how I describe her). She appears to have slightly longer legs in back than in front so that when she walks, she moves much like I would imagine a wild cat in the jungle to walk, in a slinking sort of way.
It is rumoured she has a collection of pet rocks, one of which is named Milton. He has thick glasses and is a bit nerdy. No one else has actually seen them as she keeps them hidden.
She is playful, but will wait to be enticed most of the time, rather than asking to play, Her favorite game is dizzy Tiger Bear and reverse dizzy Tiger Bear. This is accomplished by having her chase a string rapidly in one direction or the other with occasional acrobatic leaps thrown in. She will, when she wants to, chase a tinsel ball and bring it back to be thrown again and again. She will call me when she is up high (on top of the kitchen cupboards or on the kitty shelves built to allow the cats to go from their huge kitty condo/scratching post through the sliding windows to their screened in porch that is 5' to 6' off the ground,) and I will present my back to her and she will leap onto it, sometimes from several feet up. She will then settle herself on my shoulders and relax while I transport her wherever she wishes to go.
She is very fond of canned tuna, and especially likes the water it comes packed in. She like turkey lunchmeat and roast pork (the other white meat) and fresh egg yolk. She likes dry cat food and some flavors of Fancy Feast in fishy flavors. Often she will have to be enticed to eat by sampling the food off my finger first and she is served her dish of food wherever she may be in the house at the time. Occasionally she will deign to come and eat with the other cats when tuna is being offered. She drinks lots of water and will drink from the bathroom faucet but prefers the dog's bowl when she is outside on supervised excursions. She likes catnip well enough but adores having fresh containers of cat grass to chew on. They are purchased almost weekly at a pet food store that stocks them already grown in pots as I do not have a green thumb.
She will not tolerate being held for more than just a few moments and will not sit on a lap, but has learned to love being stroked and petted and will ask for it. Her favorite thing is to lay on the water bed, just out of reach and ask to be petted. Then when you start, she gets up and moves to a new spot, necessitating a move again by the person petting her, usually me. She owns me and knows it. She also will scoot and squrim across the floor while being petted. She plays peekaboo, either crying when you pop into sight and say PEEK! or by running to see where you went if you say bye-bye and disappear.
If either of the kids picks her up to hold her, and I put out my arms to her, like you would a small child, she will reach out her arms to me to take her. She likes stretching out alongside me in the morning to be petted and will knead her claws into my bare skin. (OUCH!) She purrs loudly and often. She does not mind getting wet. She will stand at the back sliding door and watch birds walk up to the dog's dish right outside the door to steal food and she will chirp at them. She loves finding a moth in the house she can catch and play with.
The story of how Zesty came to be adopted that day at the Humane Society must not be left out of this story. We had gone there, just a few weeks after losing my golden eyed baby girl Misty suddenly. We went to get one cat. I had already fallen for one, that I spied immediately upon arriving in the kitty room. But, we continued to look into all the cages at the cats, young and old. My daughter was thinking perhaps an orange cat would be nice. However, one kitty, seeing she was not being noticed by us, decided to announce her presense. She climbed up the front of the cage over her littermates, and stuck her arm as far out of the cage as she could, as if saying, "Pick me! Pick me!" We then had the dilemma of choosing between her and the grey kitty I liked. Finally realising we could not choose, we took both of them. They had to remain at the Humane Society until they were spayed, however, so we were given cards with numbers on them, (no names) and a brief description to use to pick them up the next day. As we were leaving, I read over the cards and realised one of them was for a brown and white cat, and I didn't think that description fit our new little tortie. I went back in and inquired and found they had indeed given us the wrong card for a different cat. We straighten out the mixup and the rest is history.
Both Zesty and her sister are the subject of many adventures that my teenagers and I imagine them in. Like Zesty in a cart at the grocery store putting things in, only to have her sligtly older, more mature sister Topaz removing them when she is not looking. Or both of them in a stroller being pushed around the zoo, with Topaz straining to see over Zesty who is bigger but sits in front. Or how Topaz is developing her own perfume and Zesty used to make kitty butter, hand churned.
They are the light of my life.
I chose euthanasia for my Zesty girl on April 14, 2015 after a sudden illness that was dianosed as FIP (wet) and possibly cancer. She died at 2:42 pm at home with me and her 'sister' Topaz. My heart is broken and I miss her so much.