June 2017 Update: I'm sorry to report that after a brief illness, Bogart passed away. This sassy boy will be deeply missed.


In a room full of black cats, Bogart reigns supreme — at least in my eyes. This guy came to us years ago as part of a rather infamous hoarding case in Nevada.  

Now let me put a little context on this. With cats, there can be a thin line between “Pet me more” and “OK, that's enough.” That transition can be subtle and the kitty just walks away, or it can be much more direct, punctuated with a swipe or soft bite. With time and attention, caregivers learn which kitties do what, and where that “enough” threshold is.

In the time I've worked at Best Friends and known Bogart, I've never worked out Bogart's threshold. And he knows it. He also seems to know how to melt in among the other black cats in his room and fake me out. I think he is entertained by my inability to read him.

I've gotten a bit wiser. If I need to spend time in the room and am likely to be distracted, Bogart's caregivers will round him up for me and put him temporarily in a tower so that I don't have to worry about where my sassy stalker is.

Despite it all, I love Bogart. He is unique and uncompromising. He loves people, he loves attention and he makes sure that it is always on his terms. He loves who he loves and he never even attempts to look the littlest bit sorry for the soft stripes I have on my hands when I leave his room. It's a toll I pay with a smirk on my face, cause while it stings, the humor of the whole situation is not lost on me or my pal Bogart.