Maine Coons–a love affair
We've always had Maine Coon Cats. The first one in my life was my grandfather's grey tabby, Tiger. Unfortunately, he was huge. I didn't realize until later what breed he was, as I was just a small child, but I loved the look of him. When I was much older, I got my first Maine Coon from a shelter in -- where else? -- Maine, where I was visiting my family.
In fact, I got two of them, a sister and brother. The little female died early, at a year old, but her brother, Copper, a red and white tabby, lived 11 years, until he died from cancer--probably a result of living in Colorado, with all the residual background radiation. I loved Copper and missed him tremendously, so when, two years later, I had the chance to get another red Maine Coon Cat, I couldn't have been happier.
Jethro (he told me that's his name, so that's what we call him) is a wonderful mouser, and can't stand to be indoors if the weather is fine. He's only three years old, and is solid and hefty. My gosh! Do they pack lead into those Coon bodies?
Except for the missing white, Jethro is so much like Copper that sometimes it's spooky. Their personalities, even their voices, their likes and dislikes are so much the same! I can't conceive of never having a Maine Coon in my life.
Hi Joy... I think this is our first Maine Coon in Maine. Fantastic. An original. The genes in Jethro go back to medieval Britain and further. 🙂