Living with cats

8

I’ve always lived with cats, or at least with “a” cat. When I was very young, I had a big mean old tabby, Tigger. I don’t remember him very well, just some blurry visions of an orange tabby behind the couch. Mom tells me he was a mean old thing and that she had him put down. That burst that bubble I had been walking around with since childhood.

Then a skinny grey cat showed up. Mom and Dad said, “Don’t feed him and he will go away”. Well, now….OK, so I fed him of course. And he came and lived with us for the next 17+ years. He died just before I moved away from home.

We moved to Vancouver, Kirk had never been overly fond of cats. “Oh boy! A challenge!” A friend had a cat that had kittens….a quick call, “Hold a boy for me” and a visit to their place. “Oh look, aren’t the kittens cute?” “Um, sure”, he says… “That one’s ours” I say. Hmmm, awfully quiet. As we walk home with a tiny little Tonkinese in our arms, he warms up to the little tyke. We name him Tiko. He becomes our little monster for the next 20 years. We lost him to kidney failure in the summer of 2006.This time we will wait we say…we’ll get two at the same time…when our hearts heal.Three weeks later we have agreed to adopt a year and a half old purebred Havana Brown from Issaquah Washington. How did that happen!

The problem child comes home with us, snotty nose and all. The next few months are spent trying to get him healthy. We manage to get some weight on him, and get his nose partially under control, but he will be snotty for life. He came to us as Chocklit Soldier. We name him Milo. A chocolate drink, and also the Latin word for soldier. He is busy and his full name is “Milo NO!”Then we decide to get another….this time it is planned parenthood…an Abyssinian kitten, we dub him Loki, the Norse god of mischief…he is appropriately named.

After a settling in period, they are friends. As Loki matures however….Milo has shown signs of discontent and we lack a bit of trust after several behavioural episodes aimed at us. We will all find a way to co-habit though…because that’s what you do with cats….

In the wee hours of this past morning, we awake to a scratching sound. “Milo is trying to cover something up” A look around yields no clues. Back to bed. A crash. Milo has tossed the keys from the top of the fridge to the kitchen floor. Roll over, scratch, scratch, “Crap, get that before he knocks it off the bookshelf!” Milo is on the third shelf trying to knock a heavy embossing stamp to the floor…it’s new there, it apparently has to go, at least according to Milo. Lights out again. Rustle, rustle, rustle…”what is that!?” Lights on, Milo is dragging the treat bag into the bedroom trying to determine how to open it. Into the bedside table it goes…. Tink, tink, tink…”Oh Milo, get out of the bathroom sink!”

Living with cats…..