He was. He passed away last year, but here’s the story.
Brooklyn, 1997. As I was having breakfast in the tiny yard behind our ground floor apartment, three newborn kittens and their mom poked their heads through a hole in the fence and tumbled in...
Brooklyn, 1997. As I was having breakfast in the tiny yard behind our ground floor apartment, three newborn kittens and their mom poked their heads through a hole in the fence and tumbled in...
They hung around and over the next couple of weeks we got to know them. One of them seemed really conflicted and unsure whether to trust us humans or not, so we started calling him Hamlet.
Naturally, the one who seemed outright hostile became Laertes. The momcat was Gertrude...
Naturally, the one who seemed outright hostile became Laertes. The momcat was Gertrude...
...and the sweet, friendly, reliable kitten became Horatio.
(We subsequently met Claudius and learned that Hamlet was in fact Ophelia!)
(We subsequently met Claudius and learned that Hamlet was in fact Ophelia!)
We took Horatio in soon after that, and he lived with us happily for the next 20 years - like his namesake, the only apparent survivor of that troubled family.
Here he is celebrating his first Xmas, in 1997. Proof positive that we badly needed kids. 
