Although as you already know, I am an Indoor Outdoor cat, I have a secret second life, reserved for Wonder Boy, wiling away the hours napping on his bed during the night, or when I am allowed. When Wonder Boy’s bed is off-limits to me, Momma’s bed will do. It is also very comfortable to sleep on especially in the dog days of summer.
So that is a bit about me but I am so much more than that. Having two brothers makes me a little Tom Boy although I am graceful as I float through life, flaunting my exquisitely ringed tail high in air, stepping so lightly I barely touch the surface I land on.
However after ten years on planet earth, I got very sick. Like what does a cat know? Let me get back to you with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so Help me God!
The disease manifested itself on a hot June afternoon – I felt sssssssssssoooo lethargic that I baked on the neighbour’s patio, not even seeking the shade of the bushes. As night fell Momma came calling but I ignored her. I was just too tired to make my way home. As darkness prevailed, Momma kept coming out, checking, so nervous because well Mao went missing and never returned, we think she must be in what the Two Footed call ‘Kitty Purgatory.’
I knew Wonder Boy would not be happy if I didn’t make it home. Feeling unbelievably wobbly, I slipped off the neighbor’s patio and dragged myself under the first peony bush to spend the night.
Momma kept coming out, calling my name, but I was too weak to respond. The next morning , Jakita on full alert and Momma went walking, pounding the paving, calling my name. I heard them, but the pain and weakness kept me from responding. Like clock work every half hour Momma would come out, call my name, implore me to come back, she had no shame of what the neighbours would think. Momma may worry about her pets more than some parents do about their kids, I think.
It just so happened Momma came out on her scheduled patrol at four o’clock in the afternoon, as I started the long crawl, flat on my belly, to the front door to get help from my Two Footed Momma and Four Footed Jakita. I know how cats react to illness. We are all so neurotic that we avoid sick cats like the plague. She scooped me up, took me inside to lay on her bed, brought me food and water, which I refused. I had no clue what I needed to get better so I decided to disappear downstairs to the cool crawl space, away from the family hustle and bustle.
You know Wonder Boy loves me, loves me, loves me. When he could not reach me in the crawl space he was fit to be tied. You can bet that Wonder Boy is going to persevere until I am safe and sound in his arms, no matter if it was midnight. Although the mission was successful, we all knew I needed medical intervention, to bring me back to the land of the living.
No wonder Wonder Boy and Momma were so fearful to lose me. Mao had so silently slipped out of our life. Come morning an appointment was set and it was off to the vet. After two days and nights of re-hydration, antibiotics, anti acid and some vitamin pills, I started to pickup and even enjoy the attention and the spoiling from the Vet and Staff. At home, I lived the life of Riley, I had 3 dishes, 1 of water, one of wet and one of dry food fed to me alone, away from the other cats, in Momma’s bedroom. What is not to love? My only complaint was I had to continue the medications, if I wanted to live.
Remember, lovable as I am, I wasn’t always fed in bed….that had been a ‘In Sickness’ commitment. Now behind my back (I hear her) Momma doesn’t call me The Diva Calico Gen. No, I am named her $1300.00 Cat. After a run of ten years of good health, I collapsed, along with every organ in my body.
Something you should know about my Momma…. Now that I spend more time in her bedroom, I notice she rushes here, she rushes there, making a sharp left in to her bedroom, notes me sleeping with my head resting on pillow, top right hand bed corner. I get up, do my stretch and venture to the bottom, resting my paws on the back board of the bed, begging for the food dish (for the 10th time today) to be opened and please, please, please brush me.
Momma ignores me – that’s okay, I can wait, what else does a kitty do, I silently communicate to her.
Momma does her In and Out of the Bedroom, as fast as she came, she’s gone and I sit there, staring at my white paws hanging over the edge of the bed. She’ll be back. Count on it. Twenty minutes later back comes Momma carrying all kinds of frightful whisks, mops and brooms, enough to frighten a sane cat in to hiding, but I sit there, still imploring Momma, with my ‘I would die for you’ eyes. She capitulates as I manipulate, brushing my fur, opening my food dish, all the while, cooing at me softly . Our God is good and predictable.
I just wonder….. if Momma noticed the how the crystal hanging in the window seemed to create a tiny tiara above my head as she squinted in the afternoon sun beam – fit for a Countess Diva who does not lose, she perseveres on to victory.
