His polite expression vanished in a glow: \u201cI caught a seven-pound bass.\u201d<\/p>
The few minutes that followed were the most rewarding of our term together. Usual reserve gone, he delightedly explained the challenge and rarity of such a catch, and put his phone to the screen so I could see the photo.<\/p>
It was a lovely, welcome reminder that learning is always part of a bigger life. The selves we bring to classrooms, as teachers or students, are just a slice of the pie.<\/p>
My best (only?) didactic strategy is to celebrate and be curious about my kids\u2019 whole lives. Authentic interest and appreciation turn every learner into a \u201cgood\u201d student.<\/p>
In that spirit, I want to share a piece about a fundamental part of my life \u2014 one I rarely discuss in a professional context. It\u2019s not to do with education<\/em> exactly, but it\u2019s part of who I am and what I value and how I spend my days. <\/p> Here goes: I have 13+1 rescue cats. Yes, 14 cats. Yes, that\u2019s a lot of cats. <\/p><\/div> Each of them has a story that deserves to be told. Today\u2019s spotlight is on Leopold:<\/p> Someone asked: How do you think of names for so many cats?<\/p> Naming is the easy part. Especially because I love words and obscure connections.<\/p> Leopold (aka Leo, Leelee, Leo Pickles, Leelee Pickles, Mr Pickles or 24-hour Party Pickle) was named after Leopold Bloom, protagonist of perennial \u201cBest X Novels of the 20th Century\u201d contender and James Joyce\u2019s most digestible masterpiece, Ulyssess<\/em>.<\/p> Yes, I was a lit major. Nevertheless, I wasn\u2019t suffering flashbacks to my third-year Joyce seminar when I named Leo. The truth is lower-brow than that.<\/p> But first: two black-and-white kittens lived at a house on my jogging route. They appeared when they were quite small, and I would see them playing together, or scooting around the well-kept garden. One sticky day in early May, I decided to run that loop. Coming down the hill, toward a set of bins where someone set food for feral cats, I saw one of the black-and-white kittens lying Sphinx-pose on the edge of the road. It was an odd place and posture for a cat, especially in the heat of the day. I approached, and he pulled himself away, both hind legs dragging.<\/p> I hollered over their fence until an man came out. \u201cYour cat\u2026 it\u2019s hurt.\u201d<\/p> \u201cYeah, it\u2019s in a bad way. It\u2019s not our cat though. They\u2019re friendly,\u201d he added.<\/p> I pounded home, grabbed a trap-cage, food, gloves and hopped in the car. The little guy had dragged himself across the road and was hiding in a storm drain. He couldn\u2019t move fast, and was hungry, so I was able to trap him on the second try. The other kitten stayed on the edge of the scene, meowing and anxious.<\/p> Ulysses <\/em>is a retelling of The Odyssey<\/em>. As chance would have it, I\u2019d just watched the absurd-yet-splending Brad-Pitt-worship vehicle Troy<\/em>. There could only be one name for a handsome little warrior with a game leg: Achilles.<\/p> Achilles and I dashed to our vet.<\/p> \u201cThis picture isn\u2019t compatible with survival,\u201d the vet said when he showed me the x-ray. \u201cBut we\u2019ll see what we can do.\u201d<\/p> Achilles wanted to be on my lap. When he was settled in his cage with an IV, he dragged himself over and flopped against my arm. I promised to bring him his brother, ASAP.<\/p> That promise took a few days to keep. Little guy was still there, curious but mistrusting. For a few nights, I baited the cage and left; this yielded a few feral adults, but not brother.<\/p> One morning, I took a transport up, slathered sardines all over it. As I waited, a man so old and frail it hardly made sense he was standing inched up the hill. He had a flat cap, buttonless shirt and no teeth. I braced for an interrogation or a lecture about catering to stray cats.<\/p> \u201cI saw him get dumped,\u201d he told me. \u201cI\u2019ve been feeding him and his brother.\u201d<\/p> Ashamed of my assumptions, I explained that the brother was safe with a vet.<\/p> This wizened saint put down some food. Leo scuttled over. The man pulled on my gloves, scruffed him and got him in the crate.<\/p> All this time, I\u2019d been pondering his name. Achilles and Odysseus are counterparts and counterpoints in The Iliad<\/em>. But Odyssesus, <\/em>for a cat? Oddy? Sess? Seuss? Yssy? Uff.<\/p> Achilles (the cat) clung on. The vets were draining pus from his lungs and his hind legs were useless, but he was affectionate, still eating.<\/p> Odysseus. The Odyssey. Ulysses. <\/em>Who\u2019s Odysseus\u2019 character? <\/em>Leopold Bloom.<\/p> Leopold? That\u2019s a name a cat can live with.<\/p> Bloodwork and x-rays revealed little brother was in perfect health, so he was neutered, vaxxed, chipped and christened.<\/p> After a few days of constant care it was clear Achilles couldn\u2019t go on. We put him to sleep on a wet Saturday. I have no qualms about putting down cats when it is the kindest option, but I cried.<\/p>![](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com\/public\/images\/37a68704-7ee3-400f-86cd-8136c775553b_4000x3000.jpeg?w=1080&ssl=1\"\/)
<\/figure>Leopold <\/h1>
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<\/figure>![](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com\/public\/images\/498e1cfa-93e8-43f6-975a-d6d7c697ffec_4608x3456.jpeg?w=1080&ssl=1\"\/)
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