Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Max That Cat!

In The Beginning



S

everal years ago,during a fit of what can only by described as a severe joint mental lapse, it seems in retrospect, my Fair Lady (hereafter, referred to on occasion as MFL) and I decided that we should have a house cat. So, we began to scan the local newspaper classified ads for pets.

My Fair Lady pursued an offer to give away one of a large litter of cats of unknown father-hood since the mother cat had been known to bestow her favors upon all comers — and we are told there were multitudes.

The catch was that the cats were up in a house in the foothills of the Sierra mountians. But, the wonan said that she would bring them down to our valley when they got a little older. She took our name and address and promised to call us.

Sometime after this, on a Saturday afternoon, I recall, My Fair Lady AND I WERE SIPPING VODKA GIMLETS ON OUR REAR DECK OVERLOOKING THE FIRST FAIRWAY OF THE GOLF COURSE WITHIN THE COMPOUND IN WHICH WE LIVE, WHEN THE PHONE RANG. MFL INSISTED THAT I BE THE DESIGNATED PHONE CADDY. I ANSWERED WITH A FUZZY HELLO. THE FOLLOWING CONVERSATION TOOK PLACE AS BEST AS I CAN RECALL:

"THIS IS THE SECURITY GATE. THERE IS A LISA BOWEN HERE TO SEE YOU."

I DON'T KNOW ANY LISA BOWEN AND TOLD HIM SO. THEN, THE LIGHT BULB WENT OFF IN MY HEAD. THE CAT LADY!

"WAIT," I SAID, "ASK HER IF SHE HAS ANY CATS IN HER CAR."

I HEAR HIM ASK, "DO YOU HAVE ANY CATS WITH YOU?"

"NO," THE LADY REPLIES.

THE SECURITY GUARD IS NOT TO BE PUT OFF SO EASILY SINCE PERHAPS I DID NOT WANT ANYONE WITH CATS TO BE ALLOWED IN AND HIS DUTY IS TO PROTECT MY WISHES.

"ARE YOU SURE? WHAT 'S THAT IN THE BACK SEAT? LOOK'S LIKE A CAT TO ME."

"THAT IS A DOG."

"LOOKS LIKE A CAT TO ME."

"SIR, I HAVE HAD THIS DOG FOR TEN YEARS, AND IT IS A DOG. I KNOW WHAT CATS ARE AND THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT A CAT. IT IS A DOG!"

NOW THE SECURITY GUARD RETURNS TO THE PHONE AND ME.

"SHE SAYS IT AIN'T A CAT."

"WHAT THE HELL," I SAY, "LET HER IN ANYHOW."

I RELATE TO MY FAIR LADY THE STRANGE CONVERSATION AND THE FRONT DOORBELL RINGS. MFL ANSWERS.

I HEAR THE FOLLOWING:

"LISA!"

"KAY, THAT IS SOME SECURITY SYSTEM YOU HAVE HERE. THAT GUY CAN'T TELL A CAT FROM A DOG."

OH, GOD, THEY KNOW EACH OTHER. NOT ONLY THAT, BUT LISA IS IN CHARGE OF THE SUNDAY SCHOOL AND KAY IS ONE OF THE TEACHERS. IT SEEMS THAT LISA WAS DELIVERING THE LESSON PLANS THAT MFL, ALSO KNOWN AS KAY AND MY FAIR LADY, HAS ASKED HER TO BE KIND ENOUGH TO BRING OVER.

I TRY TO MAKE AMENDS BY OFFERING TO SHARE OUR GIMLETS.

"AND," SNIFFS LISA, "I DON'T DRINK."

SO SAYING, SHE TURNS SMARTLY ON HER HEEL AND WALKS OUT FOLLOWED BY MY FAIR LADY, APOLOGIZING ALL THE WAY TO THE CAR FROM WHICH I HEAR A DOG BARK.

THINGS ARE RATHER BLEaK IN THE OLD HOUSEHOLD FOR SEVERAL DAYS AFTERWARD. BUT, I CAN RELY ON TIME, THE GREAT HEALER, AND SOONER OR LATER THINGS RETURN TO NORMAL, OR WHAT PASSES FOR NORMAL IN OUR LIVES.

EVENTUALLY, WE GIVE UP ON THE CAT LADY WITH THE FREEBIE CATS, AND DECIDE TO BUY -- GOD BLESS US FOR WE SHALL NEED HIM -- a SIAMESE KITTEN. SO, ON ANOTHER SATURDAY, WE TRAVEL ABOUT 25 MILES TO A CAT HOUSE. IT SEEMS THERE ARE TWO KITTENS OF THE LITTER REMAINING, ONE A FEMALE, THE OTHER A MALE. THESE CATS ARE NUTTY BEASTS, BALLS OF FAUN COLORED FUR, SCURRYING HERE, THERE, UP A TREE OUTSIDE THE DOOR. HOW CUTE. HOW ADORABLE. MY FAIR LADY PICKS UP ONE. IT PURRS. SHE PICKS UP THE OTHER. IT PURRS.

"WHICH ONE DO YOU WANT, MY DEAR," I ASK.

"WHICH DO YOU WANT"

"NO, WHICH DO YOU WANT. YOUR CHOICE."

I MEAN, I HAVE BEEN IN THIS GAME OF MARRIAGE TOO LONG TO BE SADDLED WITH WITH WHAT MAY TURN OUT TO BE THE WRONG DECISION. MY PHILOSOPHY IS PRETTY SIMPLE, YET EFFECTIVE. I MAKE THE BIG DECISIONS: I DECIDE WHETHER WE AS A NATION SHOULD GO TO WAR, I DECIDE WHAT THE NATION'S FISCAL AND MONETARY POLICIES SHOULD BE. MY FAIR LADY DECIDES ON THE SMALL THINGS: WHO ARE FRIENDS ARE, WHERE WE SHOULD LIVE, HOW MUCH WE NEED TO SPEND ON WHAT VACATION SHE HAS IN MIND, WHAT AND WHEN WE EAT, WHAT CARS WE SHOULD DRIVE. WE HAVE NOT, TO THIS POINT, EVER FACED THE DECISION OF THE PREFERRED SEX OF OUR HOUSE KITTEN. MY MIND WORKS LIKE A STEEL TRAP, LIKE A WELL TENDED SWISS CLOCK, SOUND MIND IN SOUND BODY AND ALL THAT. SHE MUST MAKE THE DECISION. I TELL HER SO.

SHE HAS ONLY ONE LOGICAL DEFENSE: SHE CRIES.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU CRYING."

"I CAN'T MAKE UP MY MIND. THEY ARE BOTH SO ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE."

OH, MY GOD. AM I GOING TO WIND UP WITH TWO CATS? NOT VERY DESIRABLE, BUT THERE IS THE OLD PLOY, THE WINNING GAMBIT TO BE PULLED OUT.

"TAKE THEM BOTH," I OFFER. HEH! HEH!

IT WORKS!

"NO, THAT WOULD BE TOO MUCH TROUBLE." SHE IS DOWN TO A MERE SNIFFLE.

"OH, GO AHEAD, IT IS PROBABLY JUST AS EASY TO RAISE TWO AS ONE, AND BESIDES THEY CAN PLAY WITH EACH OTHER." HEH! HEH!

SHE SMILES. "DO YOU REALLY THINK SO?"

WHAT HAVE I DONE? I HAVE OVERPLAYED MY HAND! SHOT WITH MY OWN GUN! FLOORED BY MY OWN CLEVERNESS!

"WELL, LET'S TAKE THE MALE."

I ESCAPE, BUT AT A PRICE.

"GOOD. IT'S SO NICE TO HAVE YOU MAKE SUCH IMPORTANT DECISIONS."

SHE IS ONE UP! HOW DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? I AM THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE CRYING, BUT THAT WOULD SHATTER COMPLETELY HER IMAGE OF ME.


SO, IT COMES ABOUT THAT WE HAVE A SMALL, FAUN-COLORED, PURRING SIAMESE CAT IN A CARDBOARD BOX ON THE SEAT BETWEEN US ON THE WAY HOME. PERHAPS A WHIMPER OR TWO, A FEW SCRATCHES ON THE INSIDE OF THE BOX, AND THEN SLEEP.

WHAT DO WE CALL THIS CREATURE? AFTER A FEW FALSE STARTS, WE AGREE ON MAX-IN-THE-BOX, OR MAX FOR SHORT. SO, THAT'S HOW IT STARTED. WE HAVE MAX, THAT CAT!

THERE ARE SOME WHO WOULD SUGGEST THAT CAT-TRAINING IS DIFFICULT. AU CONTRAIRE! WITHIN TWO DAYS, MAX, THAT CAT, HAD US PERFECTLY TRAINED TO TEND TO HIS EVERY WANT, HIS EVERY NEED. EVERY MEOW BECAME A COMMAND.

FOOD, WATER, PLAYTIME, SLEEP ALL YOU WANT. GROW UP ON THE EDGE OF A GOLF COURSE WITH MARVELLOUS GEESE, SWANS, SQUIRRELS TO CHASE, MICE TO PLAY WITH. INSIDE WHEN YOU WANT. OUTSIDE WHEN YOU WANT. ROLL OVER AND GET YOUR TUMMY RUBBED WHENEVER THE URGE HITS YOU. ECONOMICS? WHAT'S THAT! POLITICAL UPHEAVALS? NOT MY PROBLEM! WANT OUT AT MIDNIGHT? SCRATCH AT OUR BEDROOM DOOR. WANT BACK IN AT 4 AM? CLIMB TO THE LEDGE OUTSIDE OUR BEDROOM AND CROON UNTIL ONE OF US GETS UP TO LET YOU BACK IN.

I WANT TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MAX, THAT CAT.

AND WHEN I DIE, I WANT TO RETURN AS MAX, THAT CAT!

1 comment:

TKTC said...

Pop- It's just as winning a combo as it ever was. Hope you don't mind- I linked to it from mine...you know I can't resist:)
Love & Squalor,
Esme