R.I.P. Filthy

Filthy “Bossy” Cloud-of-Fur Carlson-Candiotti,   
April 2002 - October 22, 2019

On the prowl for action in the 'hood.

It is with heavy hearts that we note the passing of our beloved cat of hearth and bookstore, Filthy, a.k.a. Mr. Filth, The Filth, and Keeger-Catz.  

Filthy arrived in our home seventeen and a half years ago, brought to us in a Fiat X19 convertible all the way from Cannon Beach, Oregon by Pistil Books’ photographer Kam, where he was born to his all-white mother and lived with his calico sister.  Filthy’s early kittenhood was spent at his birth home with a sixteen year-old girl who named him Sugar, not realizing his true dirty nature.

The majestic Dr. Filth was a commanding presence

In a presentation to the Prince of Punjabi

Upon his arrival at our home in Seattle as a kitten, Filthy settled into life with us quickly.  He earned his true name by climbing around parked cars, decorating his white fur with spots of grease.  He sometimes liked to wear pink stripes of food coloring.  His first book was a Random House Collegiate Dictionary, the corners of which he gnawed.  He also liked archy & mehitabel, The Life of Pi, and The Jungle Book.  He enjoyed graphic novels, but not Maus.

Waiting at the bookstore bathroom sink

A genuine Renaissance kitty, Filthy not only had a career as a bookstore cat, but he was also a healing arts practitioner.  A master at balancing auras and aligning chakras, he conducted his Treatments free of charge next to the fireplace where he would position himself carefully upon the chest of the reclining patient and take mental and physical possession of their torso.  Filthy’s relaxing energy transference Treatments opened the heart centers of his patients and restored vitality.  He was also skilled at claw acupuncture.

Filthy loved water and could often be found meditating next to the sink, in the sink, in the bathtub, and practicing the running-water-staring-ritual.

A true leader, he commanded his followers and servants with gentle force.  He was a natural teacher and never gave up in his attempts to train even the most dense students in the ways of door opening, faucet turning, and food presentation.

Filthy always welcomed guests and home exchangers into his/our home and was known for his intelligence, humor, affection, and gracious hospitality:

Their cat was as friendly as can be and I would stay here again just to say hi to Filthy (that's the cat's name) -- Kyle

Filthy, the cat, visited me every day, and we became friends I think by the end of my stay. -- Yuliya

A beautiful home, beautiful hosts, and a loving cat! -- Ariana

We enjoyed our visits with Filthy the cat! -- Kerry

We spent most of the time in this place wondering how we'd lucked out with this décor, these bookshelves, this kitchen, this freaking cat (who is much cleaner and cuter than the name "Filthy" would lead you to believe).-- Yossef

Expect a cat to be hanging around.-- Peter

A noble soul, he will remain with us.

After a long and happy relationship with his human friends, Filthy went on to his second or ninth life.  He is buried in the front garden in his old hang-out spot next to the front porch where he napped in summer and regularly greeted us upon our return home.  According to a condolence card the vet sent to us, “Filthy will always be watching over you so remember to smile and think positively.”

Filthy is survived by the feline neighbors, Max and Zoe, and by his many human friends, Sean, Amy, Troy, Kam, Barbara, Andrew, David, and Jackie, to name just a few.

Portrait of  The Filth by Barbara Pronsato.

Filthy in a box

Over the course of the summer, our cat, Filthy, has been transformed from a scaredy-cat mostly indoors pampered white fluffy kitty into a mostly outside rough and tough, no longer terrified of raccoons, beast who spends much of his time in the front yard, sleeping in his basket or hiding in the grass.   His indoor time has moved into the bookstore, as is appropriate for a literary type such as he is (he especially enjoys climbing onto your chest for a drool fest if you're on the couch trying to read a book).  Sean didn't like Filthy sleeping in his chair in the bookstore, though, for some reason not appreciating sitting in a layer of cat hair.  So since he's been banished from the office chairs, Filthy has been restlessly scouting around for a new place to dream of chasing mice, resolutely ignoring the cushion and fuzzy towel I placed on the floor for him.  Today he decided a box newly emptied of books was the perfect bed.

Last week we went to the Moore Theatre to see a screening of the film I Am Secretly an Important Man, a documentary about a local poet and musician, Steven Jesse Bernstein, who performed in Seattle in the eighties, often opening for various grunge bands.  A really funny clip of  Jesse Bernstein being featured on a local television news program after being voted best poet in Seattle by Seattle Weekly (not exactly a bastion of alternative culture) readers opens the film, with the carefully coiffed anchorwoman asking the heavily bespectacled and tattooed-knuckled Bernstein how he would describe his poetry and him replying, "dark."   Although dark it is, his work is often humorous, and can be heard on the Sub Pop album, Prison, with music recorded by Steve Fisk.  A lot of longtime Seattle artists were featured in the film, and many were in the audience.  Left Bank Books collective, who published a book of Bernstein's poetry, More Noise, Please!, in 1996 was tabling in the lobby. 

Reading Notes
I started reading Larry's Party by Carol Shields, but quit about half way through.  I thought it was pretty boring to begin with - the main character was a male florist who becomes obsessed with building hedge mazes, and the story followed his romantic and family life.  But Shields' habit of repeating not very interesting bits of biographical information drove me to quit reading.  I'm not sure what purpose the repetition was supposed to serve, but I found it very annoying.  I'm a bit disappointed, because I was hoping to like Carol Shields just for being a Canadian woman writer, since I'm quite fond of Margaret Atwood, Alice Munro, and Mavis Gallant.