Hamlet

Hamlet, he of the super-long legs.

Have you ever seen a cat that is half-feline, half-jackrabbit, and all acrobat?

You have now. Meet Hamlet, the biggest surprise to us from the original "gang" of kittens who found us a couple of years ago and decided, much to our fortune, to keep us.

Slim Jim in his favorite chair, taking it easy.

Hamlet was a wild one, hanging out in the garage with Romeo and Juliet, but refusing to be touched by humans. He would acknowledge your presence, and even walk up to you as if he wanted to touch you, but then he always backed off, and no amount of cajoling could get him to come forward for a petting.

Hammie with his best friend, Romeo.

We had to enact a devious plan to get him into a carrier for his neuter and shots, then when we got him home, he stayed in our game room to recover. Much to our surprise, he laid on the couch in that room and let us get close to feed him. Then, to our amazement, he let us pet him. It's as if he knew he was finally home and had humans that cared about him. I was certain that we had brought home the wrong cat, but, no, I could tell it was definitely our Hammie. Within a couple days, he had explored the house, declared it his territory, and was laying on the couch in the living room with us, flipping over to expose his belly for a rub.

Waiting patiently for his daily belly rub.

He would let us pet him, rub his tummy, pick him up and carry him. Who knew? We surely could never have guessed that this gentle, scared little soul would transform into a loving, playful cat who enjoys being around his people. He did a complete 180 in the span of a few days. Once he decided to trust us, he trusted us with his whole heart and knew we would take care of him.

Sweet Hamlet, posing for mommy.

Now Hamlet, otherwise known as The Hamminator, Hambone, Hamhock, Slim Jim, Daddy Longlegs, Senor Hamburger, and Hammie, rules his world here. He has grown into an extra L-O-N-G, lean little man that is all muscle and curiosity. He can jump flat-footed from the floor to the top of my 8-foot tall bookshelves in the wink of an eye. He can turn flips mid-air in the pursuit of dragonflies and junebugs, getting enough power from those super-long jackrabbit legs of his to catch whatever he has his eye on. He can contort his slim body in myriad ways, with one half facing one direction and the other half going the other way. I don't know how he does it, other than believing that in one of his previous nine lives, he must have belonged to a circus, performing as an acrobat, contortionist, and clown.

Resting between adventures.

Then, in the next moment, he can come up to you for some petting, turn over onto his back for his daily belly rub (his favorite thing in the world) and go fast to sleep in your arms, still on his back.


Who would have ever guessed? Not in a million years would we have thought Hamlet would have been such a character, acrobat, sweetie, funny cat.

Daddy Long Legs, claiming the couch as his.

As I type right now, he is sitting in my lap, motor going full-blast, looking up at me, waiting patiently for his belly rub. I told him he's going to be famous, because I'm writing about him. He just looked to me as if to say, "I already am! I have my own admiring audience right here!"


Yep, that's our Hamlet.