The Trials and Tribulations of Champagne

So before I get into the main theme of my post, I am going to give a short account of my current situation.


I am traveling for work, and will be in the Boston area for the next week. Actually, its about an hour outside of Boston...a.k.a. Nowhere, Massachusettes. When you travel for work a lot, you get bored in the hotel rooms. I mean, there is literally nothing in this town...nothing to do. I've been trying to think of things to spice up my stay, so any suggestions are much appreciated. My initial thought was to rearrage all the furniture in the hotel room to freak out the cleaning ladies. I would really like to make a super elaborate fort out of all the furniture and bedding and put a little sign on it that says something like "Fort Awesome" or "Area 52...much more mysterious than Area 51".


In any case, on to the main theme of the post...my cat Champagne, may he rest in peace.

Champagne was a quirky kind of cat. I would describe him as kind of a doofus. He was georgous, with fluffy fur the color of champagne, which is how he got his name. He always seemed to be somewhat confused and wandered about our house with no real agenda.

Champagne was both an indoor and outdoor cat, but he really preferred to be inside. Which is probably why he climbed into our boat.

Our boat, a 24-footer proudly named the "Horny Toad" by my father (if you are curious as him), was sitting out in the drive by our barn. We had just pulled it out of Lake Erie and were going to take it to be winterized at our local boat maintenance place. Champagne, left outside in the cold for the night, crawled into the boat for shelter. The next day my father went out to the boat, slapped on the cover, and hauled it to the boat repair place. The brave Champagne managed to survive in the bottom of that boat for several weeks while it sat at the maintenance place. The guys at the shop ripped open the cover to find a terrified Champagne, who had lived off the sitting water in the bottom of the boat. I'll never forget the phone call we received, "Um, we think we found your cat in your boat." We raced over to the boat place to retrieve our miserable looking cat. We always checked the boat after that.

Champagne lived a peaceful life for the next few years, until I got into high school and developed a weird sense of humor.

One day, I decided it would be the most FABULOUS idea to shave Champagne like a lion.

I mean, who doesn't want a cat that looks like a lion? With the help of a little dremamine to calm him down (we checked with a medical professional on this), a few friends, and an electric razor, we attempted to shave Champagne like a lion. Here is the result:

Obviously, he looks NOTHING like a lion. His hair was so friggin' thick that we couldn't shave him all the way, and we didn't want to hurt him. So he walked around like this for a few months. No big deal.

About a year after the Lion adventure, our beloved Champagne went missing for a few days. Since he was an indoor and outdoor cat, we didn't worry much. Around the same time, my bedroom started to smell funny. I washed all my clothes and all my sheets, wondering how I could smell so bad and stink up my room. I finally complained to my mother. She immediately knew what must have happened. Very sadly, Champagne had decided to spend his last hours in his favorite napping spot, the corner of my room, behind my armoire. I was devastated. I did not sleep in my room for the next few months. Seriously. I slept on the couch downstairs.