Iago's Origin Story

During the summer of 1996, I lived in Murfreesboro, TN. I was engaged to a guy that didn't really put me first, and ended up being abusive. Fortunately, I was subletting an apartment from local college students. Even though I was engaged, I wasn't included in get-togethers with his friends. I didn't know anyone, and couldn't really make friends while I was there. I was lonely.

I convinced him to go to the local animal shelter with me so that I could get a cat. I figured having a cat would make the apartment less empty. I loved the idea of having a cat being there to greet me when I came home. I anticipated getting an older cat, as they were less mischief than a kitten. I had a 4 year old cat named Daisy back home in New York with my family, and I thought getting an older cat might be easier.

After work one day, we went to the animal shelter. I can't even remember the name of the animal shelter, but it was the one run by the town. It wasn't a breeder or anything like that. I told the woman what I was looking for, and she had me follow her into where the cats were. (Mind you, this was really pre-internet, and shelters didn't have adoptable animals on websites or anything like that.)

I followed her into the room where all the cats were. Kittens were on the right side and older cats were on the left. There weren't very many of either. All of the cats were held in kennels (cages, really), stacked on top of one another-- Very much like how you see them depicted in movies and television shows. As I followed the woman, a little, white paw stuck out from a bottom kennel on the right side. The paw stretched as though it was trying to say, "pick me! pick me!" But, it was a kitten, so I ignored it.

At least, I tried.

I looked at the cats, and none of them seemed interested in me at all. There were only a few, and they were just disinterested. I didn't feel a connection with any of them. I turned to walk back the way I came and that little paw stuck out as soon as I took my first step toward the exit.

I sighed and walked over to it. As I crouched down, I noticed this tiny, orange tabby with his paw reaching out to me. I stuck my finger into the kennel and he pressed his head right up against it. In the cage were two other kittens.

"Those just became available," the woman said. "The calico is really cute." In the back was a grey and white calico. I tried to reach over to her, but the orange tabby wouldn't have it. He wanted to be the center of attention. I tried to pet the black one, too, but the orange one kept getting in the way.

"I think this one wants to come home with me," I said.

"Looks like it," the woman agreed. She opened the kennel, took the orange one out and handed him to me. He climbed right onto my shoulder, like a parrot. I sighed again and the woman gave me a knowing look. "Let's fill out the paperwork."

I followed the woman out, orange kitten perched on my shoulder. As I was filling out the paperwork, the kitten jumped off of my shoulder, onto the counter and started wrestling with papers. He took a running leap on some brochures, slid across the counter and ended up in the trash can.

"You should call him Trouble," my fiance said. I smirked.

"Nah," I answered. "I'm going to call him Iago." You see, I was a Dramatic Literature major and had just finished up a semester of Shakespeare where we studied Othello. The bad guy - the troublemaker - in Othello is named Iago. Many people think that I named him after the annoying parrot in Disney's Aladdin, so I always explained the true origin of the name. (Side note: I think people would have preferred if I named the cat after the annoying parrot rather than the Shakespearean villain.)

Iago moved with me from Tennessee back to New York when I finally left. He stayed with my mother, who absolutely fell in love with him, as I finished my senior year in college. Mom was so in love with him that she wouldn't let me take him to California when I moved to Los Angeles in 2001. His mischievousness slowed down as he got older, and he grew into the biggest, mushiest love-cat that you could ever meet.

Iago lived a long life, until he died of natural causes when he was almost 18 years old. We all loved him. He's the last cat that I ever had, and I don't know if I could ever get another one after him. Iago was the best.