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| Fred and Ginger Catherine Al-Meten |
Last time I had cats, they were 'old lady' cats who had long outgrown their kittenish ways. They lounged across computer keyboards, or dangled their heads and paws from the top of the bulky, old computer monitor, but rarely felt intrigued by my pen, paper journal, or toes that I can recall. When Fred and Ginger were en route, I was more concerned about how to deal with the "litter box" situation than I was anything else. The litter box has actually been one of the easier adjustments due to the improvements made with clumping litter, and my daily practice of keeping the box clean. There are no lingering catty odors, and my bathroom floor is always clean as it is swept once or twice a day. Only occasionally will I spot fresh, damp kitten paw prints marking the dark wood floor leading a way from the bathroom--a sure sign someone has been investigating the water dripping in the bathtub.
Right now my friend Frederico, FeFe, is lounged beside me on the top of the glass table where I am writing. His interests alter between the occasional bird he sees flying past the window out across the river or into the bare branches of the plum tree outside, and the ball that the other kitten, Ginger Rose has found under my bed. He sits beside me for a few minutes, gazing at me and watching me write. We have a conversation about privacy issues, how much he wants told about his life or not, and then we agree that I will only share the cute and funny behavior as it directly relates to my writing. It was really a one-way conversation, as I doubt that Fred Astaire, Fred Pablo, Frederico, FeFe...has anything on his mind except whether or not I will read his clues regarding filling up the bowl with kibble, making sure water is fresh and up to the rim of his blue water bowl, or whether or not I'm up for an occasional game of cat, claws, tag at 2:30 in the morning or not. In the middle of the night when woken from a sound sleep, however, I discovered kittens are basically untrainable. The result is, I have been trained to vacate the bed during such moments, stare out a the stars and try to find Mercury, Venus, or Mars, or spot the Galactic Center at such times.
My first clue that my writing habits were going to be affected by my new charges came the first morning, when they came up on my bed after sleeping behind the stove for their first night. They jumped up on my bed as I set my cup of hot tea on my nightstand (of course what was I thinking--an open invitation to a kitten to stick a nose or paw into the cup to see if it was anything of remote interest to them). It had taken me years to notice my old lady cats dipping their paws into the glass of water I had placed next to my bed for years. When I realized how many germs I had probably ingested over the years, I switched to bottled water. My carefully capped bottle of San Pelligrino water now protects me from whatever is on cat paws. However, I have had to figure out another option for hot tea, or the occasional glass of pinot noir. I now carefully place a saucer over my tea. I digress. About writing.
That morning as the kittens joined me for my daily ritual of writing in my journal, I noticed immediately that they were fascinated with the paper and spiral on the notebook. So as I wrote, they each chewed and threw themselves across the pages of the journal. My handwriting now has large, inexplicable slashes and loops indicating that a cat has slid across the page at some point mid-sentence or paragraph.
Kittens have affected my life in many ways, many I believe, for the betterment of my health and personal happiness. For one, they are warm, soft, and silky (albeit the teeth and claws). They snuggle up next to me quite often, one preferring to sleep behind my neck on the bolster pillow that supports my back as I write, the other nestling in my lap or beside me under my left arm. They sleep for long stretches, so it's somewhat like having a baby again. I wait for the naps to get a lot done. Sometimes if they have worn me out with a midnight romp, I take cat naps with them in the afternoon. One thing that is very interesting about having a brother and sister pair of kittens, is that they get along so well. They play like there is no tomorrow, and they are twice the fun, keeping me laughing and amazed at their feats. As I sit on the couch sometimes, reading, editing some photography or doing a piece of writing, I will be surprised by a sudden soaring body flying from the top of a cabinet, counter, or high table across the room to land and slide in for a home run on the coffee table runner right in front of me. I'm not used to flying objects in the house. It's surprisingly like having your own angels flying around the room, reminding you of subjects that are much more important than what you're probably writing or reading about.
Kittens need, no demand, lots of attention. They look right into your eyes, and can find you no matter where you are. They also have that 6th sense thing, that allows them to 'read your mind'. Sometimes they can anticipate what you're going to do before you even have made up your own mind. I do not lead a very regular life, so chucking their sensitivity off to recognizing patterns of behavior won't work to explain their catsight. And when they start crying (for that's the only way these particular mews can be interpreted), I know they are not at all happy that I am preparing to leave the house. Unlike dogs that you can take with you without upsetting too many people, cats stay home when you go away. The longest I have left the house since New Year's is about 3 hours; usually I'm gone for an hour or so, and they cry each time I am leaving. You can tell that I'm completely under their spell. When the time comes for me to leave town for a while, we'll all need therapy and lots of mood modifiers to deal with that trauma. I've envisioned getting carrying cases, driving everywhere I go again, (I stopped long distance driving about 4 years ago), or never leaving the house again, and inviting everyone to come visit me instead.
You see how these things happen when we get so attached to animals that we organize our entire lives around them. Would we do this for anyone else--family or friends? For much of our lives we work on finding balance between our personal needs and our responsibilities and desires. We learn that we can't sit in our daughter's house for the entire of our lives, so we establish our own home again, seek some independence from a job that tied us to one place and bound us to a schedule. Just when we have the freedom to do what we want to do when we want to do it, we bring kittens or puppies, or fish into our lives, and that changes the course of journey. The real adjustment with having kittens is not whether or not I will be able to take care of them, get used to litter box duty again, or keep them from eating up my freshly printed manuscripts or ready-to-frame photographs (although that has been challenging). The adjustment is with recognizing the presence and importance of having other beings in our lives. Sharing space and taking care of them. Giving them attention, and stopping what we are doing long enough to be present with the moment.
Some moments require our presence. Like this moment when I hear a crashing sound in the other room, and notice both kittens are missing from my desk. Time to take a break, get up and investigate the situation, and oh by the way, get some breakfast, give my back a break, do some yoga stretches, and look into the eyes of Fred and Ginger Rose to recognize a part of my heart that had been dormant before they came to visit. They remind me of the love we feel inside, and the need we each have of sharing that love, expressing ourselves to others, and to simply enjoying the moment whatever that entails.
Kittens have come to stay, and will be with me for many years. My writing will survive, though my lace curtains may not. I notice my arthritic hands can only pet, not grab or disengage their claws from something they shouldn't be using for a toy. I recall years ago when we got our first kitten together, my husband saying, "It's so nice to have another little soul in the house." And it's true. The souls of kittens are big and powerful. They connect us, awaken us, and make us feel more at home. And God willing, they will share their lives, souls, and kitty wisdom with us for many years to come. Writing may improve for the time I spend taking care of life's daily and necessary details, for the growth of compassion and the sharing of love that taking care of animals we are entrusted to care for awakens in us.
We three are sitting here at and on the glass top table looking out at the walkway along the river. All morning dogs and their people have been walking by on their morning walks. We, are comfy and cosy here, with our cup of tea, our clean litter box, our toys, and one another, content and happy to be among the cat people. As I write this, I notice Fred chewing on the Audubon Bird book. He's very discriminating that way...choosy about what he chews. This probably won't be the last time you will hear about the kittens. They have moved into my life and heart, and have fit right into my daily routines. I close the bathroom door when I shower, and go on long walks by myself. I have yet to have to leave them with someone, and I realize the people I have cat sat for over the years, really entrusted me with their precious ones, and I feel extra blessed that Monkee and Rana, Luna (RIP), Zelda (RIP), Vinnie and Sadie, Simon, Pounce, Opal (Fred and Ginger's Mother), Fuzz Ball and Rosie (RIP), Cupid the Dog, and Nejma, Halood, City Kitty, and now Fred and Ginger have welcomed me into their lives and hearts...life is richer when we open our hearts and homes to our animal friends.
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