It was a tempestuous spring day. Mum got caught in a downpour as she walked back from work. When she was a few blocks away from home the clouds cleared and she noticed a tiny ball of fluff on the footpath. Was it a mouse? She bent down to get a closer look and couldn’t believe her eyes. It was me! Bruce the cat! I was only one day old – so young that my umbilical cord was still attached and my eyes were still closed.
There were a lot of things for mum and dad to worry about in those first few uncertain days. But there was one burning question – what were they going to name me?
Mum and dad looked to famous orphans and foundlings for name inspiration. Historical figures Aristotle, Moses and Muhammad were all orphans. But those names all sounded a bit grand for a little cat.
They could have named me after a writer such as Edgar Allan Poe, Tolkein or Tolstoy, or a musician like Ray Charles, Trent Reznor or Bach. They love Ray Charles but they already have a human friend with that name. And for some reason, the name Edgar reminds mum of the word agar, which brings back memories of high school science.
So they decided to go for a pop culture reference. Would I be named after Harry Potter? Tom Sawyer? Quasimodo? Mowgli? Wolverine?
Oliver Twist was a top contender, but in the end they decided to go for Bruce – after Bruce Wayne, the guy who grew up to become Batman! Mum and dad knew I’d need super strength to get over my rough start in life, so they named me after a superhero who grew up big and strong.
So far I’m already following in Batman’s footsteps. I’ve got my own cat cave, I like robins, and I’ve even helped other little kitties in need. (With your support I raised over $1600 for the SPCA.)
Unlike Bruce Wayne though, I have two butlers instead of one.
Now where’s my cape?
Hello, my name's Bruce. Mum found me when I was just one day old. She and my dad are keeping me warm and fed with help from my other new human friends.