It is fair to say that we live in a muddle. I didn’t always. Quite the opposite, in fact. Until cats took over my life, my home was quite respectable.
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It is possible to maintain order despite feline companions. I managed quite well with Mohammed.
He was the cat I “inherited” with the apartment that I took over from my friend Tim.
Mohammed didn’t care for Tim’s new house, so he came back to live with me in the place where he was happy.
Mohammed had been allowed the freedom of being an indoor/outdoor cat and my attempts to cure him of the need to roam failed when he cried pitifully at the door. One day he went out and did not return.
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After many empty, cat-free months, Kina came into my life.
Unfortunately, living with a single female was not part of his plan, so he set about to make himself other arrangements.
This involved a little discombobulation of my ordered existence.
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Well-meaning friends decided (without consulting the discontented feline) that Kina needed a companion.
So Yeti arrived in the form of a Christmas present.
This offered a temporary distraction to my Balinese buddy who quite took to the idea of protecting the tiny little scrap that was my Himalayan kitten.
She ruined things by growing up.
Yeti had her little surgery long before Kina was likely to be disturbed with unwanted urges, but once she reached maturity, he incorporated her into his devious plan.
Kina wanted to live elsewhere and he would achieve this by any means necessary.
Annoying his person.
Kina was very smart. I was in the process of purchasing my first home, a cooperative apartment. The seller’s representative came over one morning with all the paperwork for me to sign. While we took care of business, Kina climbed into the man’s briefcase, where I could swear he read and absorbed the house rules I would need to follow in my new residence.
The apartment had belonged to a colleague who lived there with a cat although technically pets were not allowed. One just needed to be discreet, I was assured.
No sooner had we moved in, than Yeti was taking refuge beneath a radiator while Kina alternately chased her, or sat by the front door howling. Balinese, like Siamese, have particularly noticeable voices.
Kina really wanted to go off to England with my boyfriend, but this was not possible and as it turned out, another opportunity presented itself. Much as I hated to see him go, it was obviously the kindest thing to let him have the life he wanted, with a whole doting human family. I am glad to say he lived a very long, happy life.
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Yeti and I were also very content. She was the perfect companion who was never any trouble at all. We were quite organised.
Till I moved to Seattle.
If someone had suggested such a move to me, I would have laughed. It was not something I’d ever considered, but I’d lost all my ties to the east coast.
And the real estate market had come back around to where I could probably sell my place without a loss.
Seattle appealed to me because of its climate. I’d been there twice and liked it. Furthermore, the manager indicated he would like to have me there.
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It wasn’t the move that caused my living standards to crash.
It was that in my new life, I became more involved with helping animals, something I had always wanted to do but never really had time for.
This led me to a woman who was a cat rescuer and ultimately to fostering.
Years later, I fostered many cats, finding homes for quite a few, but that first foster I took in, I immediately decided to adopt.
And it was Panther who began to dismantle my standards.
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Panther was not naughty, he was just – Panther, an assertive little chap. He liked things a certain way and when they were not, – he demonstrated his annoyance.
Which is to say he anointed things.
Quite possibly, this was learned behaviour.
Yeti was by then advanced in age and not long after Panther came to live with us, she was diagnosed with kidney disease. She developed bladder problems and each time she had an accident, I made a fuss of her. Probably it would have been as well just to clean up and ignore the whole thing, but it was a sign of deterioration. I wanted to hold on to my beloved cat and hold back the inevitable.
Did Panther notice that I made a fuss of Yeti when she had those accidents? Perhaps it’s a stretch, but animals are very smart and it was only after this that he began doing what he did and he became very possessive of me, rushing to the door to meet me any time I returned from an outing, sitting beside me and sleeping on my bed every night.
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Panther supervised my activities. I never left the house without informing him where I was going and when I would return.
In a multi-cat household, litter-box accidents (or misdeeds) lead to more. We wash, we clean and disinfect and do our best to contain things, but this involves modifications most people would not consider.
We have come to regard them as minor inconveniences.
Driving to the store today, Grant asked:
“Did you by any chance pick up that mouse head this morning?”
He’d intended getting back to it but got distracted by some other task. It was still there when we returned, looking as if it had been severed by a mini guillotine, the rest apparently in some feline tummy. I scooped up the head and took it out as a small appetiser for a passing bird.
When possible, I rescue mice from our killer cats, putting them outside – another one just as I was writing this – but despite our efforts to discourage them, they have been in the car again, looking for nesting places and materials. It is rather inconvenient.
If we were to build them a mouse condo, no doubt they would still prefer the car.
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Having pets makes us less ‘careful’ about having a pristine household. We suffered Ollie-slobbers sprayed onto the back of leather furniture, where they dried like concrete and often went unnoticed until it was too late. Trying to get them also off removed the leather, so we just gave up worrying about it. Then there was the constant trail of spilled water from his bowl in the kitchen that I took to drying up by wrapping kitchen towel around my shoes and moving around like an ice skater. And don’t let’s mention the twice a year moult, with dog-hairs everywhere. But I would not have changed him for anything, especially not a dry kitchen floor. I would have him back tomorrow, with ten times the mess.
Best wishes, Pete.
I know you would Pete. Mess does not matter.
Thank you, Carolyn, for the interesting essay on all the inconveniences in your life. As always, your photos enchant your words!
Joanna
Panther loved eating my hair 😆
I am sure, although you are very fond of all your cats, those first few will always have a special place in your heart. I need one of your cats here in our farmhouse – here is a mouse that is much smarter than all our plans to catch him/her. A mouse was in our camping trailer in the garage and caused havoc among the tea bags, milk powder and packets of freeze-dried meals 😲. After I cleaned the trailer (took me two days), the mouse is now in the kitchen …
Oh dear!
I loved how you framed these inconveniences as part of the day’s texture rather than disruptions. The way you write about them — with honesty, a touch of humour, and no frustration — makes the whole piece feel quietly grounding.