Burnside: Farewell, Percy

Percy, the Randolph Leader’s cat since 1997, passed away quietly at his home, the Leader building, sometime Thursday night Oct. 13th. He was around 14 and had been experiencing some health problems in the last few months.

Friends and customers of the newspaper will remember Percy, who liked to nap in the in/out box at the corner of the front desk. Sometimes he would greet visitors with a meow, other times he might head butt their pens as they tried to write their classified ad.

The big blue-gray cat came to the Leader building at a time when we all needed him. Former editor John B. Stevenson, 82, passed away on a Monday in December 1997. Percy showed up that weekend in the parking lot. Nothing like a mischievous cat to take our minds off our loss.

I caught Percy doing a “trick” early on. We have a water cooler in the back that had begun to leak. Water would be out in the floor, causing the tiles to warp. Johnny had talked to the guys who deliver the water jugs who instructed us to mark on them with a Sharpie to indicate when a jug might have a leak. One evening, I was in my old cubicle and heard water running. Percy was sitting on a light table (used to look at negatives), reaching down and putting his paw on the spigot of the water cooler, enthralled with watching the water run out. I called Peggy and we both watched him in amazement. How did he learn to do this? He did not stop when we were watching because he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong.

We moved the water cooler away from the light table, but Percy soon grew taller and could stand up on his hand legs and pull on the spigot. So then Willie put the water cooler on a stool to elevate it out of his reach.

During Percy’s younger days at the Leader, he also learned to make copies. He liked to watch the paper come out of printers or copy machines. If he were within reach, he’d hit the paper with his paw, as if he could make it go back in. Several times, we came in to work to find a bunch of blank copies where Percy had pushed the print button just to watch the pages come out.

Percy’s nature got him into trouble a time or two. Once he took off after a scent into our attic and would not come down when we called. He came down during the night – right through the dropped ceiling.

Another time unbeknownst to us, he followed a visitor into our dark, creepy basement. We searched for two days, walking the neighborhood and cemetery calling his name, putting an ad in the classifieds. When the visitor heard of our missing cat, it dawned on him what must have happened, and there was Percy – still trapped in the basement.

Oftentimes, Danielle found a big, fluffy cat between her hands and the keyboard, possibly the cause of a few typos here and there. Typing — yet another one of Percy’s talents.

When Percy wasn’t getting enough attention, he’d let us know by pushing items off Johnny’s desk or the front desk. When he wanted one of his treats — kept in the right-hand drawer of the front desk — he’d lean over and touch the drawer with his paw, showing you which drawer you needed to open for him.

Just like any kid, Percy enjoyed a good piggyback ride. Johnny would lean forward and Percy would reach up for him, letting Johnny know he was ready for a ride. Giving him a boost to his shoulder, Johnny would walk all over the office with Percy high atop his shoulder, enjoying the view.

Percy even had fans – folks who would stop by with no newspaper business whatsoever – who just wanted to pet the cat.

Several times today, I’ve heard people say, “He had a good life,” and he did. He had the run of the place. But for the past 14 years, Percy has also given us a good life back.

When you’ve been cussed out on the phone, when the computer hiccups and eats your story, when you’re here well into the night with no time for supper – it was so good to get up, stretch your legs and go find a kitty to cuddle.

Goodbye to our greeter, our mascot, our stress-reliever and our friend. We love you, Kitty Percy, and we will miss you.