And so it came to be I called a meeting with Momma’s collection of Indoor and Indoor/Outdoor cats. I negotiated terms and conditions, after feedback, discussion and consensus, from the lot of them:
I Stand on Guard for All of Thee
1) We needed a name of our place of abide (just guess who suggested Jakitaville).
2) Because of the lofty duties I must exercise judicially, I needed a title – I was hoping Queen or Empress or even Princess but majority rules and the Cats were set on Senorita Jakita. They considered Mayor but they vetoed the idea because they do not have the power to vote me out. And if my head got too big and I did not carry out my duties, I’d still hang around, bossing and bullying (like another Mayor you may remember), become a binge party animal that did not respond well to intervention. Right, we got something in common (immeasurable egos), but ya think they are going to fire me??? I’ll get a lawyer, I will go to court, I will make their life miserable! Does that sound like someone you know, that is in the news every day?
Just between you and me, Jakitaville will turn in to a dictatorship – a benevolent dictatorship, but still NOBODY messes around with Jakita and her genius of manipulation and self-aggrandizement.
3) Once I had all the cats on side, (okay, okay, I bribed them by promising that the male members would also have the title of Sir in front of their given Name and the females would be known as The Pretty Little Misses (eg. Pretty Little Miss Diva Calico Gen) – got all that – yeah, my eyeballs are going round and round in my head, but I am still the Boss. Oh, and more thing, although I could mention them in my blog, the cats insisted they were to have their own voice and be able to insert their version of events before, during and after, in their very own, cat-a-log. Whatever!!!!!
The Alter of our Shangri-La.
And so, we are living the dream, turning our Shangri-La into an oasis, where every critter lives in peace, knowing its’ boundaries, doing ‘no harm’with all due loyalty and support to Momma, Wonder Boy and Daddy (May He Rest In Peace). We must give credit where it is due and remember who pays for our kibble, our room and board, grooming, vet bills and generally keeps the ship on course – if only Momma would not be so easily seduced by every sad, bedraggled feral who look so needy and cries so pitifully because they are so hungry. If only.Why don’t the feral cats just stay at the Cat Colony?
Why is there no law and order Border Security, like between Mexico and United States – a Trumpster wall, well, scratch that, the desperate always find a way over, under or through. They are so committed to succeed or die trying, they are even willing to put up with me.But I am a piece of cake compared to the creatures that lurk around the Cat Colony.
Andy-Long-Legs begs: Please, please, please, leave me out…..
Okay, I insist, I must go first because I have so much to contribute since, well, I am Sir Andrew Long Legs, (Andy for short). When I yawn, my jaws separate so widely that I could swallow a full-grown pumpkin.Sometimes I emit a guttural growl that starts at my toes, and moves up my body to join the air emanating from my lungs, creating a storm that spews from my mouth and ears, putting fear in all critters, even me, truth be known.
In the beginning, when we found our Forever Home, the vet told Momma that two of the kitties she had rescued from work, were female and one was a male. So I was called Antoinette – till Momma and Daddy caught me in the act, indulging my male testosterone level with poor, innocent Gen. Daddy grabbed me, Momma picked up Gen to soothe her and let her know that there was a cure for that dastardly deed and it would be imposed forthwith. I was renamed – Andrew or Andy-Long-Legsbecause I have such a long body and legs.
The surgery for the cure was promptly moved forward. Even though I was not sure exactly why, still, it still made me feel like I had committed one of the Seven Sins – notwithstanding, I wasn’t chastised in any way and it had no long-term psychological effect on me, honestly.
After healing from the surgery, my siblings (Beau and Gen) and I, quickly became Indoor / Outdoor cats. We would wander over to the neighbors’ yards or across the street to pick up the other members of our feline only ‘gangsta’ club from the Cat Colony or the neighbor hood. We would hang out on street corners, sauntering down the side-walk, sometimes three deep. However, by nature, we are hunters (our Baby Momma cat did not get a chance to teach us, and I can assure you, Momma is clueless about stalking prey). Most of our outside time was spent at the Creek or in our front or back yard. I tell you that there are no more mice, pretty little birds, bees or butterflies in Jakitaville. Unfortunately, it is the law of nature, we cull the herd.
Once the hunting is done, it is time for a nap, on a lawn chair, in the sun on a cool day, or in the shade, in the heat of summer.
Ready, Set, Go for the game of tag with Andy-Long-Legs.
When I wake up, all refreshed and energized, I go looking for a game of chase with Mr. Grey Squirrel. Since the back yard is a Squirrel Free Zone, patrolled and enforced by Jakita (our Hot Dog), Mr. Grey Squirrel scampers back and forth on the fence that encloses our yard, screeching, dive bombing from the fence to the cherry tree to the roof of the garage –all the time secure in the knowledge I can never catch him.
In no time, Mr. Grey Squirrel is complaining because I tired him out. He takes a timeout high in the red maple, chirping and upbraiding me, his beady eyes keeping watch while the leaves camouflage his rat like body and his big, bushy tail. Feeling I have accomplished a full day, I push my way through the hole in the screen door (that I created for ease of entry). I go in the house meowing, ‘Hey, I am back. did you miss me?’ and head to my usual spot on the living room couch. When I am lucky, I even find another kitty to curl up with, for what else…. a cat nap.
The Kit-and-KaBoodle: Beau-Re-Guard, Gen and me, Andy Long Legs (Right)
Do you see the gleam in my eyes and the wildly divergent shades of black tipped silver, gold, beige, and browns with a white shirt. Look at those creamy paws and that feathery tail – Do I look ‘marvellous darling’?
Hi New Friends: I am Senorita Jakita – AKA: Cuddle-Wuddle-Double- Trouble, Itsy-Bitsy-Baby- Boo or Jakita-Boo- Couchie-Coo Residence:Jakitaville, Canada Position Held: Little Miss Senorita Jakita Breed: Havanese Born:Feb.2, 2010 Weight:A Lady Never Tells…
Do you mind, please indulge me, just so you get to know me. This is the story of the protagonist, Jakita, descended from a fine line of designer dogs, (nod, nod, wink, wink) as shared by my Forever Family and with my fellow Pets, and Wildlife (mostly antagonists), Vets, Emergency Doctors, an Internist and, oh yeah, a dog like me, needs a Naturopath. So listen and learn – what you see is maybe not all you get. Do ya think I have them wrapped around my little paw-paw or are they too puppy-savvy for that?You be the judge.
Iadmit I have a Type A Personality with Excessive High Alert when on Prednisone. Also, my head seems to be on 360 degree swivel tilt – I see, feel, hear everything. For example on walks, I hear, see, feel people coming up, at any angle. I will stop, move over, only continuing once any potential threat has passed. No one is to follow me. My paranoia demands that I must control the situation.
The first night at my new home I was so stressed to leave the litter, I panted, my heart raced a hundred miles an hour but I was compliant, settling down to sleep in my cage. I was taken to the Vet within 2 days of coming home. I was / am EASILY trained both at housebreaking and or tricks but did not seem to like people too much from lack of socialization. Every human just said ‘No’, continually bathed, wiped my paws, cleaned my ears, or bossed me around. My two brothers & sister were much more fun. They did not give me such a rigid routine to follow and liked getting in trouble with me.
Momma says some times we can not help our rash behavior…it depends on the alignment of the planets on the day you are born…
Momma, being obsessively Virgo Analytical had to do Dog IQ test on me & the result from the tests, string over head, follow ball etc., reported I was brilliant and she was just lucky I liked her. She laughed out loud because when she first brought me home, she felt my indifference and she was right, as always. I did not like her but over time, as I saw her soul (and she fed me) that has changed. I mean Havanese came from Europe (Spain and France) to Cuba, with generations of my ancestors considering Momma ‘s type hopeless gringos and / or square heads, so I had some attitude adjusting to contemplate if this was my destiny long-term. More importantly, now, I am older and wiser.
I have become very sociable with people, kids, and some other pets. I am a neighbor hood favourite and definitely like people better than dogs, especially big dogs who give off bad energy. I avoid them like the plague. I love to tussle with our cats in a no winner, end up kissing, routine. After all, they are my responsibility – if they need out, I bark for Momma to open the door. If they are sick, I lay with them, but still, if they jump on the table I tattle on them.It is a big job.
Although Momma says I am a dominant Alpha Dog, I prefer how my Naturopath Doctor says I am the Ultimate Earth Dog, responsible for the security and well-being of all within my circle of influence. So, it is time to tell how I got the honor of having our Pet Sanctuary, named Jakitaville, after me. Could it be that my Alpha Dog personality played a role in it? No, really it was simple – Momma & Daddy (RIP) had a slew of pets over the years, loosely set up like a well run commune, everyone had a say, which meant since puppies were outnumbered, kitties ruled and smirked behind their clawed paws. I know how those Cat Colonies operate. All of our cats had been feral foundlings at one time (like we all descended from Adam and Eve, no matter our high brow ways), but were just enormously lucky to have crossed paths with Momma – OK, me too. But they were not ‘to the manor’ born, and I know, I know, I may be the product of a, gasp! – Puppy Mill, but at least there was a record kept of who my Baby Momma and Baby Daddy were. My blood was bluer than the cats. On top of that I not only stepped up to the podium, I owned it. I told our Indoor, Indoor/Outdoor Cats, you might as well get used to it, Momma is going to nurture Cats from the Colony, Squirrels, Raccoons, even the Bunnies that raid the lettuce from the garden and of course that lonely possum who hangs upside down in the tree at night.
As Senorita Jakita of Jakitaville, I am constructing a Policy and Procedure Handbook of All Creation, (it is underway as we speak), in which I promise to keep all vermin out of the back yard by chasing, barking, snarling and nipping, when nothing else works. Mind you, those Colony cats persevere, through floods, blizzards and Arctic vortexes. They will hang around for shelter and food, knowing if Momma catches me being inhospitable, she will command me to cease and desist.
All you need to know about it is contained between these covers!
Sometimes I fear Momma will never even open the ‘Policies and Procedures Handbook of All Creation’ that I am writing. She says, she does, ‘cute idea, but not going to fly’ .
Knowing Momma’s propensity to not recognize ‘genius’, she probably would have told Mark Zuckerberg the same thing about Facebook.
