Sox Comisar 
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aka: Socrates, Mund ("mouth" in German--Sox is very talkative and has an enormous mouth), Big Tooth

Born: November 1998

Adopted: January 1999


  • giving hugs

  • combing Mom’s hair

  • taking care of kittens

  • sitting in boxes/bags/flowerpots/baskets (Sox even tried to fit his 15 pounds into a bonsai pot once)

Once Balin arrived, Sox could never quite sit in a box or bag peacefully ever again. 


  • toys on strings (he chews through these; he also got mad at us for shutting him out of the bedroom one day and chewed through the fishing line connecting about 50 wooden animals that Wendy had strung into a mobile)

  • heat (we had to install AC for him last summer—Wendy and Isaac are definitely appreciating that this year)


  • once typed his own name (we'd mistakenly spelled it "Socks" previously, but he corrected us)

  • beat up the neighbor’s bully cat who harassed our very tiny  Maliouba—now Sox likes to look under this neighbor’s gate when he goes out just to make sure the bully cat knows he is watching her

  • sleeping on his back with all four legs in the air--this was called the "dead bug" pose in Wendy's childhood dance class

Adoption Story: Back in January, 1999 when Craig was co-oping at Toyota in Georgetown, KY, we were leaving his apartment to meet some friends. Just then a little kitten walked in the door. Wendy said, “Oh, Craig, he’s soooooo cute. Get him some milk.” 

The next-door neighbor appeared and said, “Hey, we’re looking for a home for him. You can have him.” 

Wendy said, “Oh, Craig, he’s sooooo cute. Isn’t he cute? He’s really cute. I’m sure Tim and Ruthie (our landlords in Cincinnati--Craig was only going to be in Georgetown for a few months) won’t mind making an exception to the no pets rule.” 

Craig said, “I don’t know…” But by then the neighbor had moved all of the cat’s stuff into Craig’s apartment. So, we got our first son. Wendy, the nervous new mom, woke up every hour to check on him. Little Sox had some trouble locating the litter box. He knew it was in the corner of the closet—he just couldn’t keep straight which corner. Oh well, it was only a temporary apartment. Incidentally, the Cincinnati landlords were not very accommodating. Sox had to spend a few months with Craig’s parents until Wendy’s threats to move out and her regularity in paying her quarterly rent early convinced Tim and Ruthie that Sox would be okay. 

The Comisars were a wonderful foster family. Sox is one of the nicest, friendliest cats you'll ever meet. He is also one of the biggest--14 lbs. of solid muscle. If something ever happens to us, there is a waiting list a mile long of friends and family who want to adopt him. If you want to be added to the list, you'll have to talk to Wendy's dad Randy. He is our cats' legal guardian. Wendy's mom Linda, however, is the manager of the cats' trust fund. (Yes, this is all legal and all written into our will. Fortunately, we found an attorney who is possibly crazier about cats than we are, and she treated our request to account for the cats in our will like the most normal thing in the world.)

Baby Sox doing the "dead bug" on his Daddy's lap, age 4 months. This was back during the brief Craig-with-beard interlude.