girl and cat
why do we love our pets like we love family members and close friends?
we grieve the death of the old family dog, are frantic when the cat is missing, run back to save the goldfish when the house is burning down.
one of these happened to me today...
my cat Matilda went missing.
People say to me, "oh you're a cat person", but in truth i prefer dogs. Dogs love you unconditionally... cats are so demanding! It's more that I have a strange affiliation with cats. They appear from behind garden gates as i'm walking to the shops and begin rubbing themselves inbetween my legs tripping me over or chasing me down the street mewing 'til they get my attention. Sometimes they wait at the back door tenatively, peering in at me with big eyes, wanting love and pats. I'm such a sucker. But they have provided me with much amusement, many a scratch, and a lot of artistic inspiration in return, in particular the two cats i've owned in my lifetime.
First came Sally Griddlebones who was purchased for me at the age of 3. She had bat ears and a twinkle in her eye and was quite normal until the introduction of my dog one year later (which frankly we think she never quite recovered from). She spent the next 15 years tormenting my family and our dog - not to mention the neighbourhood cats - but we still managed to love her and her eccentric ways. She did howver, fulfil her ultimate revenge on the dog by outliving her and routinely shitting on her grave daily. No she didn't hold any grudges.
After her came Matilda, my current cat - a pretty little tortie full of spunkiness and don't fuck with me 'tude. I didn't choose her, rather she chose me. Apparently i was the first person to pick her up and not have my face scratched to pieces. She is super cute but I sometimes wonder if she's been chanelling my previous cats bad habits. I am also sure she is also convinced that she is in fact human and not an animal. She looks absolutely disgusted when the sweet little grey cat from next door waits eagerly at the back door keen to play an indulge in cat antics. "Urgh, those
cats!" I see her grimace.
She much prefers playing in the junk heap alone.
Anyway, the missing cat. (God i got off on tangents)
When i arose this morning i noticed my cat was not asleep curled up next to me in her usual position after a busy night of nocturnal adventures. At breakfast her food that i had put out some 12hrs before had not been touched. Strange for a cat who eats 6 sachets of cat food a day (and still keeps a trim figure - how
does she do it?) . It was then i realised i hadn't seen her the night before which is quite odd as she is in the habit of greeting me when i arrive home. Slightly worried now, i asked my housemate to keep an eye out for her while on his morning run when she wasn't playing in the scrap heap at the end of the street on my way to the bus stop. He reported back to me a few hours later that there was still no sign of her and he'd even done an hour search of all her favourite hidey holes and play places around the area.
Panic mode sets in. My baby is lost.
Get a grip, ra, it's a cat. She'll be fine.
Well, she might be, but i certainly wasn't.
Three hours later and a couple of hysterical calls to my mum, I'd completed a full search of the surrounding streets and laneways, rang the local vet to check for reports of cat road kill, notified the neighbours and managed to locate the entire Leichhardt/Annandale cat population from walking around shrilly calling "puss puss puss" (at one stage i actually had an entourage of about 9 cats following me who had decided to adopt me and join in my search). What if she was killed? What if she is hurt? What if she's been taken by someone? What will i do? I can't get a new cat! I felt sick and desperatly upset. I couldn't face losing my pet again, especially not now, right in the middle of assessment. My cat is my poppet. She gives me cuddles when i need them and scratches me when i get clingy and need to move on.
It wasn't until i was sitting red eyed and stuffy nosed on my front porch drawing up "missing cat" posters that the man from the warehouse across the road came over and politely asked if i was missing a small dark cat. Yes, I was!
Turns out she'd got stuck behind some stacks of boxes after crawling into the warehouse that morning. He had tried to get her out, but she only crawled further into the maze of cardboard. I couldn't believe it; I was convinced she was gone. But sure enough upon entering the warehouse there was her pitiful little meow coming from the furtherest corner (of course the one that is least accessible and blocked by a million crates, boxes etc). Eventually i coaxed her out with a lot of calling and drumming of fingers (she's fortunately still got the kitten in her and is a sucker for the "something moving" game) and with a great surge of relief, we were happily reunited.
God, if i'm like this with my pets, what will i be like with my children?
But then again, if i don't have my cat, who am i?
