I mean, white seemed so bland next to tabbies, calicos and tuxedos. Even solid red or black cats seemed to be vibrant and exciting compared to "just a white cat."

That was before Pickle, of course.

Pickle Boy, like Punkin, was another kitten who landed at the Homer Animal Shelter at much too young an age. We will never know the true story of his origins. He arrived in a box of kittens from some people who claimed to have found them in the woods, though the kittens were clean and well-fed. At first, we thought the little white one was the "runt" of the litter. He was always the first to pile out of their nest box when we fed them, attacking the food with ravenous interest. Despite his appetite, though, it was obvious he wasn't thriving as the others were. I took him home to see if he would do better under some tender-loving foster care, but worried he had some congenital defect. I decided to take him to the vet to see if he could diagnose the problem.

I was half-way to Soldotna before it hit me. I looked over at the little white kitten in the carrier beside me. Separated from the cluster of older kittens, it was suddenly obvious to me--he was only about three or four weeks old! He wasn't a runt--he was just so much younger than the other kittens that he was struggling to keep up with them.

The veterinarian agreed and suggested a diet more appropriate to his age. Changing the kitten's diet saved his life. Once him began eating food he could digest, he began to florish.

For some time, he looked like nothing so much as a white rat. In fact, we took to calling him "The White Rat" because--hey, we had to call him something. When he started to think that "White Rat" was his name, however, we cast about for something else to call him. Maybe "Pickle Boy" doesn't seem like much of an improvement, but it was Denny's suggestion. It may be a rather silly name, but Picky has made it his own.

Even as a small kitten, Pickle was quiet and well-behaved, always in a good mood. Once he was big enough to be allowed to run loose in the house, he liked to keep me company when I was on the computer. Fortunately, he outgrew the "white rat" phase to become a cat of shimmering beauty. He likes to play with the smallest pieces of paper or bits of dry cat food he can find and will retrieve fur mousies and paper balls when the mood strikes him.

I had always thought that "just" a white cat would be rather bland-looking. Pickle taught me otherwise--he is sublime.