If anyone had told me a year ago I would have a cat in my house, I would have gladly examined their commitment papers.
I am simply not a cat person. We had cats when I was growing up. So, I know their ways. But I never thought I would end up in a cat box as an adult.
My good friend Cor Greive moved back to California at the end of last month. He sold his home to my land lady before he left, and she is doing a bit of remodeling.
And that is where the cat comes in. Cor left his cat, Lety, with the house. Cats and remodeling are not a natural mix.
But there was a natural solution. The upper unit (or upper room, as I call it this religious season) in my duplex is not being rented right now. So, in went the cat. And on went my cat tamer outfit.
My land lady takes care of the cat's major needs. My role is as Royal Jailer.
I have always wanted to appear in one of those period pieces where I do not even know the names of clothing items. "Hand me that round thing that ties to this thingamajig."
Each day I climb the stairs to the royal prisoner's apartment. Lety, Queen of Cats. To bring her the latest news of her exile. And to avoid being won over by her charms -- to grant her full release.
Lety was raised as a house cat. And she quickly acclimated to her new surroundings. But she has watched carefully as I came and went through the door.
Today I decided to let her see more. We spent about two hours wandering through the garden. She had to smell almost everything. As curious as a -- well, you know. (Too many clichés and this essay will capsize.)
Just as the Scottish Queen seduced her jailers, Lety has won me over to her catness. But she was more than willing to return to the safety of her apartments after our walk.
This little tryst is about to end. Lety's house is almost complete. Maybe later this week. And she will then return to her home.
And life here will return to normal. I can then start dreaming of a true pet.
Perhaps -- a chicken.
24 comments:
My husband went from when we married saying "No cats inside".....to now thinking a kitty is a necessary accessory for his recliner. When we had been without a kitty for about a month, he came home one evening with a little scrap of fur . Some kids were giving them away outside a store and this was the last one in the box. He said "I couldn't just leave him there to get a complex from being unwanted." Truth probably is that's the same reason he brought me home. LOL
I think it's very nice you are being caretaker/jailer temporarily to this abandoned cat. She's elegant. Seems to me, she and Bliss's Sol would be an exceptional pair to draw. People with pets are healthier .
Lety isn't really abandoned. My land lady will take good care of her. But having Lety around has reminded me why I do not have a cat. Her hair makes me itch.
A dog -- some day.
Great markings on the cat! I am allergic - like 'em or not ;-(
It's important to remember that if a house cat were large enough, it would eat you. No matter the size of dogs, they would not eat you. But cats cover their poop. Dogs leave it out for you to step in. There is no perfect world with animals, which is why I avoid them.
felipe's comments are so true!
my kitties all get out from time to time, escape artists that they are. i wish i could go back to making them indoor outdoor cats, but i worry they'd get hit by a car.
lety is beautiful-what gorgeous markings! too bad she makes you itch. i think she'd be a fine pet for you. glad to hear she already has a home waiting for her with your landlady.
I have a cat and I am not sure why.
She is a beautiful animal. But not for me.
But with dogs, I gladly put up with the inconvenience for the company they provide.
Lety is going to do well. She is one of the lucky cats here in Mexico where cats are generally not considered animal companions.
Sounds like the opening line of a folk song.
Blues
What a beautiful cat. How nice of you to let her enjoy your garden.
Remeber when you and MJ bought a cat for your dad for his birthday? Bob didn't even like cats, but Avonga won him over. She tied a string around his heart and never released it. She used to walk around the block with us. Dogs would walk up to her and she would hold a conversation with them and then continue on with us. She had no use with other cats. Even kittens caused her to growl and hiss. I always felt it was a mean cat or possum that put her in the hospital for two weeks. While there, you used to visit her on your lunch hour.
I vote for the chicken. If you get tired of it as a pet you can always eat it.
Better
A practical woman.
Well, I lost a bet with myself. I was positive you were going to relay the story of my pet chicken, Susan.
Agreed, if I had a chicken instead of my cat I wouldnt have a chicken.
The problem in Salem is you may not be able to keep the chicken. Kill the chicken? The city says yes. Kiss the chicken? The city says pay a fine.
A chicken, a dog or just about anything would be better pet than a cat.
I suspect pets are a bit like picking a political party. Both topics tend to ping our passions to the point where we cannot even remember why we chose one over the other. If you want to discuss logical dislikes, though, there is always creamed corn.
Well as a matter of fact a lot has happened in that arena since you have been gone........ It is now legal to keep backyard chickens. I think though that it may be illegal to eat your cat; I'll check.
Not sure about the kissing part?
If the version I saw passed, there are still a lot of restrictions -- such as, an unseemly bit of discrimination against roosters. We certainly have none of that nonsense here. (You should hear the chorus of roosters in the background bemoaning the state of affairs in Salem.)
two comments to add. 1. You thought I would tell of your chicken pet that lived at your grandmother's house. You named it Susan. Our chihuahua buied Susan while we went to the store. When we returned, she dug Susan up and tried to convince us that she had rescued Susan. Of course, the shock killed Susan.
2. The creamed corn incident will wait for another time.
We wonder what other tales are lurking in that motherly mind?
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