As a follower of the late author Douglas Adams, I read each book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series with great interest as his cast of characters traipsed across space (and improbability). One of my favorite characters in that saga: the mercurial Zaphod Beeblebrox, President of the Galaxy. Far more suited for self-made celebrity and half-baked schemes, Beeblebrox was not one to bring dignity or gravitas to the office of President; in fact his idea of diplomacy included kidnapping himself in order to steal the most advanced starship ever made.
In short, he’s a zarkin’ frood. Classy.
“I am so hip I have difficulty seeing over my pelvis”.
– z. beeblebrox | d. adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
When my spouse and I adopted a cat several years back we were saddled with the task that so many struggle to navigate: naming the blasted thing. Several options were kicked around but ultimately the decision came down to the cat’s core qualities: charismatic, unpredictable, and not exceptionally bright. Given those attributes, the name “Zaphod” stuck.
(A dubious honor, as I can count on a single hand the number people who pronounced it properly)
As a houseguest, Zaphod was demanding and annoying, yet charming. (We’re talking about the cat now, though you’d be forgiven for any confusion wrt President of the Galaxy) There was no height beyond his reach, nor any item he proved unwilling to callously cast to the floor. He possessed a ravenous appetite and was keen to communicate the intricacies of his feeding schedule loudly and proudly to any human in attendance who openly brandished opposable thumbs. Zaphod was not above picking favorites. Many guests were tolerated, but elaborate tricks and ragdoll lounging behaviors were available to his preferred humans. This was a special performance, something reserved for a precious few, and everyone knew it.
While he was known to be civil (affectionate, even) with humans visiting him within his familiar space, he proved to be a terrifying adversary when on unfamiliar territory. Many a veterinarian went out of their way to avoid dealing with Zaphod, so I extend my sincere thanks to those who danced with the devil to ensure he remained healthy.
After twelve rambunctious years, several household moves, and ever accompanying us as we observed the passing of other beloveds in our lives, Zaphod passed on. Temperamental and handsome to the last. Eternally, a frood who really knows where his towel is. I love you, buddy. <3
Zaphod: Aug 2010 – July 21, 2022