I've been managing the garden since the beginning of 2011. One of the most important jobs was to feed Lizzy the cat every morning. So many interesting interactions over the years. One of the strangest is when she was losing her fang, 2012-ish, it started pointing more and more straight out of her mouth, she used to slobber when she was pet, and one day out came the tooth in a puddle of saliva. I still have it. There was a phase where she'd forget to retract her tongue into her mouth and walk around with it poking out a little. She generally stayed near the greenhouse but would walk the garden with me sometimes. She was a real free spirit, and provided comfort/entertainment to lots of people over the years. In terms of her early years, the earliest mention of her in old garden emails was March 2010, but she's older than that for sure. A blog post in 2005 suggests at least two of the late 90s garden cats (Smokie, Blondie, Cali, Mamma Grey) were still around. Garden management folks Kristen Labonte and Abbie Peairs both said she wasn't around in 2007. Alan Sechman who was manager spring 2008 - spring 2009 thinks he remembers a small quiet cat, so sounds like Lizzy. It makes sense that he didn't know her that well because her caretaker then was "Skypilot" Al, who was a real character. A true wanderer, he would go on walkabout throughout the West - he walked from SB to Reno, for instance. Lizzy kept pulling him back, until he finally had to quit the garden cold turkey around 2010. My guess has been that she was around 15 y.o., that seems about right if she came to the garden as a grown cat sometime in 2008, a pretty good, long life for an outdoor cat! Here are some pics thru the years:
May 2011
In 1983 my family got 2 calico cats. My cat lived to be 17, my brother's cat 18. Cats are obviously fiercely independent, and mine was particularly so - it wasn't uncommon for her to go on walkabout for days at a time. Lizzy's independence was on a different level. She didn't really like to be picked up, and certainly not held. Very, very rarely she'd approach the idea of getting into my lap. She'd scratch me often - after happily being petted for minutes. She bit me occasionally. She didn't purr that often. I didn't consider her as a pet, and referred to her as the garden's cat. But damn I'm mourning her hard.
I began gardening at GHGP in the spring of 2009 thru using the plot of other Geography grad
students; I have no
recollection of Lizzy during that time, although I didn't use the
greenhouse or the toolshed cause of my unofficial status, so wasn't in
her territory. She grew on us quickly, though!
She was a
survivor. Aside from itinerant bobcats and coyotes she also had to deal
with raccoons - she once got bit on the butt when one got too close (she
was super patient/calm when going to the vet). Her safe place was
incredibly hard to get to, there is a small gap in the upper wall from
the greenhouse into the toolshed, then she'd walk along a "ledge", the
1/2" wide top edge of a piece of plywood, and sleep on top of the
cabinet in there.
The funny thing is despite her independence she was super dependent on humans for food, she wasn't a hunter at all! I saw her chasing lizards, but the only thing I ever saw her catch was a mouse. She caught it in the greenhouse and was so proud of herself she brought it to me at my plot. She then proceeded to drop it and it ran away.
Sound was an important part of our relationship. Sometimes she'd visit our plots on the west side of the garden, meowing loudly to let us know she was coming. When I arrived at my plot by the greenhouse to feed her I had a whistle tone to let her know I was there. Our intern Hanna was telling me that when she hears a rustle in the leaves she turns around expecting to see Lizzy but instead it's one of the many garden lizards. Lizzy's spirit lives on!