Oooohhh, I love Momma, I love, love, love Momma. Every day I still ask myself, what possessed me to behave so radically, when I could have had a life of ease? Maybe my brain waves became scrambled from breathing the rancid air in the crawl space . I believed I could tuck myself in to secret crevices where the Two Footed Foe could not even find me.
Then there was the all knowing Kat Mandu, who kept me captive and believing. How was I to know I was a classic Stockholm Syndrome victim? It makes me shutter to think that the only reason I would approach Momma, dear, sweet Momma, was to have her go to the door in the middle of the night to let that self-serving little Mandu back in the house to sleep with me. But Mandu passed and along with her went her stories of horror from her life on the Moraine where she was abused, starved and rejected by both the Two and Four Footed that walk among us.
Give me a break. Tell me to shake my head a time or two. When did a Two Footed abuse you, you may ask? I have to admit…..well, never. They fed me, brushed me, petted me, looked disappointed when I hissed, horrified when I would emit a deep-throated growl at other cats and totally mesmerized when I purred. So what exactly made me believe a psychopath cat? Maybe because she mothered me – she looked out for me and she played the best chess game of divide and conquer, winning each game but losing the battle to live in harmony with all that share the earth plane.
The very day Mandu got sick, I dragged my solid body supported by my arthritic legs, upstairs and started to survey the lay of the land. I had a feeling I was going to have to be not only the Quarterback, but the whole team.
Momma was no problem. She did what all good Momma’s do, combing me, scratching me, talking in a loving manner. However, sneaky Momma had a plan to keep me upstairs. A month or so after Mandu passed, Momma had someone close off the crawl space. Not only did that keep me out, it kept all the cats from being sucked into the vortex whenever they were sick or in a moody mood. It was not a popular choice at first for any of the cats who felt their privacy was being invaded. However, in the long-term, we have come to recognize the wisdom, in this decision, Momma, since isolation leads to neurosis be it Two or Four Footed Critters.
Still, I had some mending of fences with the other cats since I had routinely denied them access to food dishes, the water and even the staircase, like the Troll under the Bridge, refusing safe passage. I hissed, I snarled and even attacked the other cats when they had the nerve to enter the basement, my sanctuary.
I kept a wary eye on Puppy Jakita. She was so sweet-natured, while still very protective of all the household and it menageries, that I quickly felt comfortable around her. We played a game of keeping our eyes down yet inching closer and closer to each other as we fell asleep, both trusting in this new relationship.
Now that I did not have a crawl space, I wanted a comfortable place to wile away the hours, where I could see what was going on, without having to part of the action. I chose the bedroom of my RIP Daddy, laying my head on a pillow, my body on the duvet, which I routinely burrowed beneath, to stay toasty warm. And that was good but I was starting to want to have more time with Momma. All day long she ran around, doing this and that, so it did not matter where I slept, she was constantly in and out and all about. However, at nights, she slept in her bedroom with Jakita – no problem – Jakita and I were buds, weren’t we?
So I devised a plan to share the inner sanctum. I laid at Momma’s bedroom door. I pushed my paw under the bottom of the door, trying to miraculously open it, but that was a no-go. Guess I had the wrong tool box. Then I threw my solid body at said door, until, like ‘Open Sesame’ the knob complied and I rapidly skittered in. I hid under the bed, then in one leap, sprang out on top of Momma, waking her from a deep sleep, sending her into shock and awe, all at the same time. I was so proud of myself. I purred so loudly, that Jakita, at the foot of the bed, whined at me to settle down.
Rule Number One, if I was sharing the bed – Jakita was not like the cats, napping all day. She had a lot of responsibility, so she needed her rest at night….so settle down, already!
Okay, okay, I get it, I will settle down for now but I got some plans Jakita, we’ll talk in the morning……
