The Marauder’s Keyboard

Look at this distinguished gentleman, lounging about on an upturned mattress like he owns the universe with a benevolence never before known to man. His paws gently curled underneath him, tail curled around in a classic loaf pose, his eyes are soft, and he’s purring up a storm.

This lovely old man of thirteen years old has been my entire life for the last three years. I adopted him from a shelter when he was 9, and currently the oldest adoptable cat there. He was so sweet and just wanted to be loved so badly that my heart felt it every moment I held him. I cried when I took him home, because of how wonderful he was and how happy he had already made me.

He doesn’t act like a normal cat. He steals chicken off my plate if I’m not careful, French fries too, which is even weirder. He sits like a kangaroo when he eats, with his body just barely hovering above the floor, and I often joke that he could win a squat contest in a heartbeat.

When I started college in July 2020, I didn’t expect to be constantly bombarded by my small fuzzy son. He was always very chill, very “I just wanna sit by you, momma”, so I let him into my workspace. I gave him his own chair with a pillow and blanket, and thought that would be enough.

I had never been so wrong.

This little monster decided that he must make an appearance every single class at least once. Whether it be walking along my keyboard while trying to edit a film, showing his butthole to all of my classmates, head butting my hand while I was trying to write notes, or accidentally turning my microphone on so my class could hear me go “be gone small monster”. However, eventually, all of my classmates knew him by name and would ask where he was if he hadn’t shown himself yet. Even my professors would go “show me the cat”. Somehow my feline was more popular than me, but I guess I couldn’t complain. He’s just so cute. Plus, after everything he’s been through, he deserves a little spotlight.

Padfoot J Mikkelsen was originally known as Rodney in the shelter, and he had been though hell. The family who had him before me was not nice to him at all. They had a baby who terrorized my sweet old man, pulling his whiskers out, dragging him up the stairs by his tail, squishing him too hard, all around just not being nice. And it was a baby, so I can’t blame the kid, but the parents were another story. Pads was 9 at the time and he was stressed out of his mind. He would hide in places around their house, and he’d be too scared to move, so he’d unfortunately go to the bathroom outside the litter box. He never hurt the kid, but apparently instead of telling their child not to hurt the cat, they dumped him at the shelter, and barely bothered to fill out paperwork. At 9 years old, he just wanted to be loved so badly, and they failed him.

But let me tell you that the moment I pet him for the first time and he curled up against me and purred, I was a goner. That was my baby. I remember looking at my roommate with tears streaming down my face and saying “this is my cat.”

Pads has been an amazing help to me mentally too. He’s been a sort of unofficial ESA (emotional support animal) for me. I deal with depression, anxiety, and chronic pain from a connective tissue disorder on a daily basis, and before him, I never really coped well. I never thought I’d be able to do college either, I never thought I was smart enough, but he always seems to know when I need a pick-me-up because he’s always right there, chirping at me and wanting to be as close as can be. He’s everything to me if I’m honest. I even have his little paws tattooed on my left arm!

I believe Padfoot deserves this because he’s saved my life. At my lowest, during the moments when my body pain is too much to handle and I’m lying on my bed, crying from the feeling of my skin being on fire, he always comes to my rescue. He continues to be my cheerleader all the time. And not just me! I have three roommates who have all been put under his spell, and adore him every moment. He’s been the focus of a few projects I’ve done for film school, because just look at him, he’s so handsome! He purrs like a motorboat and is just so, so soft. He's the best model, I swear.