It was that time. The Siamese kitten we got the day Obama was elected is eight months old now, and he had gone from being embarrassing (constant, meditative licking of his little pink personal places) and sometimes testy, to being aggressive towards the Black Cat. No spraying yet, but that would have followed soon enough, and so tonight he is at the vet's, recovering from being snipped. The vet likes to keep them overnight because he's had a couple of bad experiences with cats who crashed trying to jump on counters while still being a little groggy from anesthesia.
And Black Cat is sad. The last time we loaded a cat (White Cat) into the carrier and took him away, he never came home again. Black Cat never liked the kitten much while he was here - in fact the kitten ate half of whatever snippets we gave them from the dinner table, and stared at him in the litter box until he developed serious constipation - but that doesn't mean he wanted him to go away and not come back.
He is telling me this now, with a gentle pat on my leg as I sit at the computer, and a soft, doleful mewing. This isn't his usual trill, but a strained, lower sound.
The kitten wasn't allowed to eat or drink last night before his operation. Because they eat together, it was easiest just to take the bowls away from both of them. And we coincidentally ran out of food yesterday. So I'm pretty sure Black Cat thinks that we ran out of food, and we decided to solve the problem by getting rid of the kitten so there would be enough. We bought new food on the way home from the vet's, and gave it to him. And he, who had been whining desperately all night about his missing bowl, looked at the full bowl, took a turn around the living room, then went over in a corner and curled up in a miserable heap on the floor without touching it. Not even on the sofa where he usually sleeps. Too many sad memories of the kitten chewing his ears off - Go away, ya bug me, kid!
I'm not sure how much Black Cat remembers from day to day. Some cats seem almost human. My Blackie is not one of those. Behind his saturnine visage lurks no hidden cunning. He is sturdy, one leg at each corner like a table, with absurdly tiny feet that make his legs look pointed. If you rub his back in the right spot he will rock his head from side to side like Stevie Wonder. Also like Wonder, he enjoys playing the piano. He learned to recognize the distinctive wrapper of King Oscar's Sardines after seeing it only twice. He also recognizes the box of Christmas tree ornaments from year to year when it is brought down from the attic, and rolls about in delighted antipation of our bringing the tree home. But I'm not sure how much he remembers the White Cat, who died. I'm not sure he remembers how lonely he was, how he followed me from room to room meowing for two months straight, how he, who never sat on anyone's lap before, suddenly wanted to sit on my lap and be cuddled. I doubt that he realizes it was partially for his sake that we brought home the kitten, or how much we cheered each time he withdrew from his sullen silence to chase the kitten down the hallway or tumble him over in a ball or let him lick the inside of the soup can first.
But he remembers something.
He is sitting at my feet right now.
I wonder if he will be surprised tomorrow when we bring the kitten home?



Salon.com
Comments
Love from my Maine Coon, Sweetie.
I can understand Black Cat hoping for the best.
It's good to make blog posts about your pets.
now you've almost convinced me that they do actively think about stuff. and that their memories and versions of time and unpredictable. i'm all overr the place, sorry. but this piece is just excellent, as is all your stuff. love love love and gratitude for this prose and for everything that you are. you are an exceptionally kind and caring person.
I for one am glad you're writing about your pets!!!
Our little boy sure is a Siamese, all right. We went to pick him up from the vet and the first sign of him was a hoarse, guttural "MROWWWP!" which we could hear all the way from the back room.
Repeated, every ten seconds, all during the ride home. Which is not a short ride, since we use the same country vet I used while growing up.
Got home. Kitten stalks out of the carrier, a little bandy-legged (ouch!) and mrowps up the stairs in a fit of pique. Mrowp! Mrowp! Mrowp! There's a story behind this. Every time I go upstairs, the kitten escorts me, and I get to pet him and pick him up and he purrs. But only on the stairs. In any part of the house other than the stairs, kitten allows my husband to pet him, but disdainfully ducks away when I do.
Apparently, post-vet-visit, my husband (who put him in the carrier to take him to the vet) is Persona Non Grata and baby wants his mommy. But he is a creature of habit, so this is only possible - while perched on the staircase.
So I petted him thoroughly and even picked him up and snuggled him a little, and headed down the stairs. Mrowp! Mrowp! MROWWWP! Back up the stairs. More petting. It took three times of this for him to work himself out of his fit enough to follow me down, and even longer for him to acknowledge my husband.
During this whole process, I think Black Cat opened one eye. And then he got up and went to his food bowl, which he had not touched all night, and ate one whole bowl of food. And then he ate all of the kitten's food, down to the point where he could see the bottom of the metal bowl gleaming. Black Cat will never eat all of a bowl, you understand. He eats until he can glimpse the bottom and then stops and begs for more, even if there is half a bowl left only shoved to the side. Shaking the food to cover the bottom does not work and only gets Black Cat to glare balefully. You must add new food, even if only a few crumbs.
Eventually Black Cat does venture over to sniff the returned prodigal. He sniffs him, licks him a little (kitten does smell funny) and goes and lies down. And rolls and rolls, smiling, doing his cutest poses with his little bunny paws in the air. Yeah, he's happy all right. Is he going to be nice to that plaguey kitten? Hell no. But he's happy.