{"id":992,"date":"2008-06-08T02:13:44","date_gmt":"2008-06-08T07:13:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/earls-pictures\/othello-and-iago\/"},"modified":"2008-06-08T02:13:44","modified_gmt":"2008-06-08T07:13:44","slug":"othello-and-iago","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/earls-pictures\/othello-and-iago\/","title":{"rendered":"Othello & Iago"},"content":{"rendered":"

Othello as a tiny kitty the day after I brought him home to my first apartment from the humane society, 1994:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

And Iago too:
\n\"Iago
\n\"Iago<\/p>\n

Othello hangs out in the “cat play area” – complete with copious pillows and cat toys – I set up in my spacious second apartment, 1996:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

While Iago walks through my old “studio” area:
\n\"Iago<\/p>\n

Both of the boys in 1996:
\n\"Iago \"Othello<\/p>\n

Iago and Othello sit in the play area and watch the snow falling, 1997:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

In the middle of 1997, I moved to Green Bay. Iago promptly declared one of my office chairs as his official snoozing spot:
\n\"Iago
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

In 1999, I finally got a digital camera, and the wholesale photographing of the catboys began. Here they are lurking around the open door of my apartment, a daily ritual whenever I came home from work. They’d be brave enough to go nibble on the one little patch of weeds right at the edge of the porch area.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Iago
\n\"Iago
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

They pretty much ran the place:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Close-ups:
\n\"Iago
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Playtime:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

In late 1999, I got ready to move back to Arkansas. One of the last orders of business while I was packing was to finally have the boys fixed. Here’s Othello before he was rewired:
\n\"Othello
\nAnd after (note accusing stare):
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

The boys recovered and patiently waited while I packed:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello\"Iago
\n(I didn’t really stack boxes on Iago, it just looks like that!)<\/p>\n

Of course, moving day was fun – the last time the boys had been stuffed into cat carriers, they’d actually lost body parts. Othello decided he was going to hide in the weird little gap above the kitchen cabinets rather than be taken alive:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

When we got to our new apartment, the boys’ first order of business was basically…snoozin’.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Then came 2000, when things got shaken up a little bit. Before the wedding, Othello and Iago were kings of the apartment:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello \"Iago
\n\"Othello \"Iago<\/p>\n

Iago grew quite attached to catnip. Make that disturbingly attached. Here he is high as a kite:
\n\"Iago \"Iago<\/p>\n

And then…there were three.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello \"Iago
\n\"Chloe
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Playing with outgoing eBay items, Christmas 2000:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Iago<\/p>\n

2001:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Iago
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Late in 2001, we moved into a rental house. By this point, Iago had really started packing on some weight. Here’s a shot from 2003:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

They patiently waited as I transformed the tiny back bedroom into a game room:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Just after Thanksgiving 2003, Iago was diagnosed with feline diabetes – he had packed on too much weight and his body was in danger of shutting down. Here’s Othello welcoming Iago home after the big white cat spent a few days at the vet:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\nIago’s return home for recovery was very brief…he died early in December of that year.<\/p>\n

About a month later, we moved into a new house of our own, and Othello and Chloe were on their own:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

He adjusted pretty quickly to being the only male cat in the house:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

But wasn’t always on speaking terms with Chloe:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

And then came what probably seemed like the ultimate insult to a housecat…
\n\"Xena<\/p>\n

Even as 2004 turned into 2005, Othello would always give Xena – would would come inside frequently due to bad weather or cold weather – a very wide berth:
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

More from 2005:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

\"Othello<\/p>\n

2006: Othello loosened up a bit and even got comfortable with Xena around:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

In the spring, Chloe died unexpectedly. All of a sudden, Othello was the only cat in the house.
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

That lasted all of about a week. Olivia arrived, and Othello now had a protege.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello you have got to be kidding me
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

Othello loved his new little sister…
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

…and she, of course, reciprocated. Well, kinda.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

When Olivia went to the vet to get fixed, Othello was glad to welcome her home…once the weird vets’ office chemical smell wore off.
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

But things were about to change again, in a big way:
\n\"Othello
\n\"Oberon<\/p>\n

Othello accepted Oberon pretty quickly, largely because Obi was too dim to try to challenge Othello for the alpha male slot:
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello,<\/p>\n

Othello now had another young cat to train. More often than not, the poor old black cat was just outnumbered by his students:
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello, HELP ME
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello,<\/p>\n

Oberon quickly proved to be Othello’s loyal and largely harmless snoozin’ buddy.
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

But that wasn’t the only change. With the birth of my son in September 2007, the baby’s room became everyone’s favorite hangout:
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello,
\n\"Othello,<\/p>\n

In 2008, Othello and the other cats had to sit in their carriers, in a closet, with the dog and the baby, waiting for tornadoes to pass by the house.
\n\"Othello,<\/p>\n

Othello began losing an alarming amount of weight in April 2008, and though we tried a treatment to increase his appetite, he eventually lost half of his body weight and was virtually skin and bones. These pictures of him, always the camera hog, were taken the night before he died.
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello
\n\"Othello<\/p>\n

I was 22 when I adopted Othello and Iago; I was 35 (almost 36) when Othello died. The boys lived through a tornado and an explosion, moving to and from Wisconsin, and even lived through me getting married (and adding another cat to the household). There were times in there where things were so bad that all that kept me going was the fact that I had to stick around and feed these two cats. Somehow, they always found a way to cheer me up and make it worth my while to still be here.<\/p>\n

They were the best fuzzy buddies I’ve ever had, and I’ll never forget them.<\/p>\n

Othello
\nJuly 11, 1994 – June 5, 2008<\/em><\/p>\n

Iago
\nJuly 11, 1994 – December 3, 2003<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Othello as a tiny kitty the day after I brought him home to my first apartment from the humane society, 1994: And Iago too: Othello hangs out in the “cat play area” – complete with copious pillows and cat toys – I set up in my spacious second apartment, 1996: While Iago walks through my old “studio” area: Both of the boys in 1996: Iago and Othello sit in the play area and watch the snow falling, 1997: In the middle of 1997, I moved to Green Bay. Iago promptly declared one of my office chairs as his official snoozing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":382,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-992","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/992","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=992"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/992\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/382"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=992"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}