Riding on the cat tails of his recent success in catching a little mouse in our apartment our cat Mocha is now holding weekend seminars in our storage closet intended to teach his fellow cats and other interested parties how to succeed in the exciting world of mousing and competitive catting.
I told him this wouldn’t work and I am eating my words as he is now booked well into July. This is crazy. He has no formal training or licence. I am afraid this is all gone to his head and its already costing me money. He has had business cards made , a website designed and has hired a couple of neighborhood cats and my own daughter to assist him, all with my credit card!
He says not to worry “baby”, yes he called me baby!
He said that once his school gets going he will be making the “big bucks”and that he’ll be so successful that he will be able to pay me back with “a gazillion percent interest” so that I never will have to work again. Seriously, he told me this.
What they didn’t say was that Mocha is no ordinary cat, not by any means.
Never have I seen a kitten jump so high, or run so fast. Never have I encountered such a keen intellect in a cat his age. He is only three months old but reads at a sixth grade level.
He is witty and charming but has a bit of a temper. And whatever you do, don’t trust him with your marbles as he is bound to steal them and put them in your shoes for you to discover later.
I don’t know who his mother was exactly. The adoption agency won’t tell me. I have a feeling she was born of noble blood and so was Mocha by the size of his ego and of his bank account. I didn’t know that kittens came with their own stock portfolio’s but apparently this one does. Once we took him home he immediately got on the phone and called his broker and then his accountant. I didn’t know cats had accountants.
I have a feeling that Mocha is money obsessed and it’s not good for him. He is a bit artificial and frankly snobby with the other cats that have come by and welcomed him to the neighborhood.
And he keeps buying things! Like fancy pet furniture and cases of canned Mackerel. I don’t know where to put it all.
He goes down everyday to Starbucks and gets himself the Vente size Java Chip at Starbucks, he loves it there. And they love him! They have named a drink after him, just shows how persuasive he is!
In fact he is paying me to write this fascinating and favorable post about him. Money does talk and since I am temporarily unemployed the money comes in handy. So watch for more stories about his antics. Maybe next time we can find out how he got such a silly name.
Adventures in Mocha
The voodoo priest and all his powders were as nothing compared to espresso, cappuccino, and mocha, which are stronger than all the religions of the world combined, and perhaps stronger than the human soul itself.
The modern mocha is a bittersweet concoction of imperialism, genocide, invention, and consumerism served with whipped cream on top
“I’m already crazy. I’m a fearless person. I think it creeps up on you. I don’t think it can be stopped. If my destiny is to lose my mind because of fame, then that’s my destiny. But my passion still means more than anything.” ~Lady Gaga
My famous cat Mario is beside himself. He fears his fame is fleeting and soon he’ll be forgotten. I was shocked. My cat never talks this way; he has been always a positive force, what happened to his great lion-like confidence?
Apparently he’d noticed his page-rankings were down. He had Googled himself multiple times over the past few weeks and had been disappointed by the results. I laughed and cited his numerous accomplishments, awards and medals.
In a light hissy tone he ranted on and on about link analysis algorithms and numerical weighting. He then he spewed out formulas and equations. Honestly I was lost there.
He complained that his new book “Napping for the Sophisticated” hasn’t been selling and that he’s sick of “playing some fool human’s pet in tawdry pet food commercials.”
Mario confided in me that his secret dream is to be the star of his own talk show. He wants to bring back the glamour and as he put it: “The Va va va voom of old downtown Burbank back into late night T.V. just like his idol Johnny Carson. He said he needed to “create a stir online to garner support and create a buzz”.
I offered to write a blog post about him and he laughed at me with disdain for suggesting such a thing. He brought up the fact that my readers are few, a devoted few( thanks guys) but a few nonetheless.
He said we need to hire a production team to make an overly dramatic and wildly expensive but tasteful You tube video about his napping habits. He showed me this pic of him I took last summer. He called it “golden” and asked how could anyone human or cat “resist this cuteness?”
He also wants a publicist “that knows what they’re doing” and a secretary to keep all his projects together for him. He demanded money to pay these “over-priced but well worth it professionals”.
He went so far as to suggest he could pull a wild stunt possibly involving himself and that other cat Spotsy who he calls White Fang in some sort of well-documented and digitally enhanced posturing incident where Mario wins a place atop all the furniture ( yeah right) while The Fang is delegated outside.
In a fit of hysteria he told the tale about the cat down the street who flushed the toilet all day long while his human servants were off “working”. Eventually he become so famous for this one simple act a news crew showed up and filmed him.
“He now has his own pilot coming out this fall on NBC.” Mario wailed in a mournful and pathetic mew.
Like I said, I had never seen Mario like this. My poor loving and faithful friend was reduced to a sad and desperate victim of that bitch goddess, fame.
Follow your bliss Mario, I said in no uncertain terms, he rolled his eyes knowing it was just me quoting Joseph Campbell again. There is a reason I do this. I brought up the fact that his true love is music, which it is and that if he diligently and deliberately pursued this love, all that he desired will come to him. As some of you may or may not know, Mario is a fabulous vocalist. He has the soul of Cat Stevens with all the pizzazz of a young Catty Purry. His lack of confidence holds him back, it’s something we share, that and pure laziness.
Your family loves you and that’s all that really matters Mario, I told him. Fame is supposed to be fleeting, love is not.
We spoke on throughout the afternoon. Mario entertained us with a medley of his favorite show tunes and we twittered away the rest of the day lost in a sweet and legal marijuana haze his musician friends contributed to the packed room of neighborhood cats and trippy neighborhood people. We drank tea and enjoyed the music and that is what it’s all about.
“The world is a wonderfully weird place, consensual reality is significantly flawed, no institution can be trusted, certainty is a mirage, security a delusion, and the tyranny of the dull mind forever threatens — but our lives are not as limited as we think they are, all things are possible, laughter is holier than piety, freedom is sweeter than fame, and in the end it’s love and love alone that really matters.” ~Tom Robbins
(UPDATE: Mario will soon be coming out with a new album. A bluesy reggae pop sound he’s been working on. I’ll keep you all posted)
To me nothing is sexier than a man with a cat. Yes, you heard that right; I like guys who like cats. These men are not afraid to show their kinder and gentler side. These are masculine men, rugged men, intelligent men with big muscles and facial hair. These brave men ignore the taunts and teases from other men, men who say that “real men” only have tough kick-ass pets like Pit Bulls, Snakes and Roosters with attitudes but not cute and cuddly cats, but these men, these “cat men” know the truth. That any real man worth his salt is compassionate and loving and likes a good petting every once in a while. So without any further ado I give you.
Of Cats and Men
Marlon Brando with His Cat at Home
The cat was an outstanding poet but lacked the fingers to type. Marlon provided those fingers and…
And so here I am hearing someone tell my 15 year old daughter that she is too old for trick or treating…imagine…the horror…how could any poor deluded and dour person say THAT to my sweet and fantastic daughter? The shocking thing was that the misguided person was me! Of all people….
It is a good thing that my daughter is wise beyond her years. She informed me in no uncertain terms that no one is too old for trick or treating and suggested the both of us venture out together. Truth be told, she was only in it for the candy, but despite what I said in a previous post my real motivation was the opportunity to dress up like an idiot. (That probably comes as no surprise.)
So what the hell? I decide to dress up!
I found the wings I wanted but the purple wig from years past was mangled beyond repair. I decided to ditch the butterfly fairy idea and luckily I come across a pair of cute cat ears and a furry tail–A-ha! How fitting…
The more I think of it, the more I think dressing up is a stellar idea! Halloween has always been my favorite holiday and I will never again be as young as I am now….life is a gift meant to be enjoyed and if this is my personal idea of enjoyment why not?!
I spent the entire day dressed as a vampy black cat and had a blast!
Halloween is a fun day. It is the epitome of sweetness and light whimsy with dark twists of wry.
And dressing up like an idiot is fun, it makes normal everyday boring stuff like going to the grocery store to get more candy because the mice ate it even more fun than it already would be!
Sure I got a few stares in the produce section; who doesn’t when they are dressed like a cat? I amused myself in the seafood section pawing at the poor Lobsters. I regret I do not have any pictures of this adventure but my camera was charging at the time. Here is a pic from a previous visit –(Oh how I yearn to free these guys!)
It was all good until I got my long black tail stuck in the ice cream case and then I almost fell when my too-high high heels skidded on the glossy brightly lit floor. The not falling part made it all so much more fun but I do have to say that picking up that extra bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups was the very best part.
This all prepared me for the main event hours later. I let my daughter take the lead; her fluffy black tail swishing and swaying. She is dressed in Modern American Teen Zebra. She has even come up with a sort of accent for the night; Italian-Irish she calls it and proceeds to use it on everyone she meets. She is an original and has a flair for the dramatic–I wonder where she gets that?
We spent over an hour, going from house to house in the neighborhood, chatting and laughing, shuffling our feet in the October leaves and having a grand time. I kept in the background as always, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, happy just to be able to dress up like a cat and walk around the neighborhood with my daughter on a warmish autumn evening.
Ironically it was the house with the cat in the window that was the first. The cat was a fluffy orange affair that regarded us coolly as we approached. I stood in the back near a bush. My daughter let out with her spiel, the lady who belonged to the cat and who held the candy bowl squinted into the darkness and spied me. “I’m too old for treat or treating!” I said before she could say anything.
“Nonsense.” she replied with a playful smile. I shot a smile back and went up the stairs and upon arrival was instantly handed a Snickers bar. A full-sized one…wow! What a feeling! It was happy little shot of chocolate goodwill and generosity. I was grateful and thanked her and we went on our way. I put the bar into my pocket and felt a warm glow in my heart.
Two more times this played out; the third time it was my daughter who prompted the person, a guy dressed as a cowboy to dole out a treat to me after she pointed me out matter-of-factly; “That is my mom and she thinks she is too old for trick or treating.” That “confession” landed me a full-sized Kit Kat.
I think we we’re onto something!
These moments get me thinking…
Life is made up of moments–these moments come at us in their own time, in their own way. Life is too short to get hung up on what we think we cannot do. Cannots waste time.
I am losing this stupid fear of looking foolish in public. “Oh who cares!” I say. I am taking advantage of moments such as these while I can still get them. It seems like only yesterday I was holding her tiny hand taking her out in the dark on such a night as this…..there are only so many Halloweens–you only get so many.
She is taller than me now. And this is her last night of being 15. She is in high school and has a boyfriend but for some reason she wants to spent Halloween night scoring candy with her mom. I would have been a fool not to take advantage of this.
I stayed in my catsuit for the rest of the night eating chocolate, sipping hot coffee…and planning for next year…
Have a good one
NOTE: My thanks to Juan for the mice eating the candy idea. Worked like a charm!
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, or you wouldn’t have come here.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
The following post holds no significance whatsoever. It wasn’t designed to make you think or question anything. It promises nothing. It exists solely to make no sense at all so…if you enjoy a little nonsense now and again
If this sort of thing isn’t your thing and you are looking for some deep philosophical discussion you will not find it here, not today anyway.Check out the archives; pick out a subject from the top of the front page and dig right in. You may be surprised.
and so for those of you that are staying: THANK YOU.
I have received countless letters and emails over these last half-dozen months asking me about my famous cat Mario–inquiring about his adventures. Are there are any new loves in his life? Are there any upcoming movies he’ll be in or new albums he will be recording? Questions on his stance on the political issues of the day, you know, common stuff… he is quite the popular cat. This is not surprising, but what it surprising is that many of the letters have been directed to myself personally; asking what it feels like to live with a celebrity such as he.
Sure there are the fans, the crowds wherever he goes. Forget about going to a restaurant or to a club, he gets swamped with paparazzi and multitudes of hangers on. All this fame isn’t easy. It’s endless phone calls from dignitaries and captains of industry, the top people in science and medicine and of course, the well-known patrons of the arts. We have been so busy trying to keep up with all the correspondence we hired a staff of 6 people and one really smart squirrel to handle it all.
Despite Mario’s privileged upbringing and consequent fame Mario has stayed amazingly down to earth. He enjoys the simple things in life; like sunsets and long walks on the beach, poetry and napping.
You can just feel his charisma can’t you!. His appeal reaches through the screen and grabs you, just like that. I know. What goes through a mind like that?! Look at him here.., You can tell from his picture….those deep penetrating intellectual eyes. He is poetry in slow motion–see how he stalked, hunted down and overran this common cardboard box.
Mario has claimed it for his own and has been napping in it ever since. What prowess…
I like to call him lovey boy in front of MM just to annoy him, Mario purrs extra loud and we get a great laugh out of this. That and card games. I don’t know if it’s well known but Mario was quite the card shark in his day. He played the Vegas circuit many times. He once even was kicked out of -the Bellagio for card counting. It was then he decided to never to gamble again and devote is free time to pursue a career in film and music. Much to his credit he has not gambled since and all he ever plays for now are cat treats.
Although Mario has constant demands placed on him because of his popularity he still finds time for this napping; devoting at least 19 hours a day to this his most favorite of hobbies. But the center of his universe remains his food dish and there I suspect it will remain.
One would think that living with a celebrity cat would be more exciting. I have been holding out hopes that some of Mario’s famous friends like George Clooney or Oprah would drop by for a visit…
…but so far he hasn’t been up for visitors. He amuses himself by following me around while I clean the house, do the laundry and make dinner. This is not the glamorous life I was promised…
Don’t get me wrong. Its not like we don’t have good times because we do, I mean he is not famous for nothing. He is quite the entertainer and what a master of the art of conversation. He has perfected what we call around here: The Silent Mew. It is timeless and it is amazing, oh what form he has. He is suave and graceful and lots of fun to be around.
He can be fussy and whiny and also seemingly aloof and then instantly demanding. He is a handful alright, but he is my cat and he’s alright with me.
“In ancient times cats were worshiped as gods; they have not forgotten this.” ― Terry Pratchett
What I am about to say may come as a surprise because it is quite amazing and hard to believe but true, so without much fanfare, I will just come out with it. I have an intense almost supernatural power over cats. Yes, you heard it correctly; cats.
I know you are thinking; “Why didn’t she tell us before?” I know this is something to brag about but I am not one for self promotion. I am a shy and reserved person in real life. I prefer to blend into the background but I do have my moments when I become quite feisty, and this is one of those moments.
I was having a deep philosophical discussion with Mario, my famous cat, as is our habit on rare idle afternoons. He mentioned the bad press that he and his fellow felines have been getting lately; apparently a report has surfaced calling our friends the cats massive serial killers hellbent on killing every bird and mouse in their perspective neighborhoods. Mario was, of course, upset and justifiably so. He asked me to say a few words on the behalf of the feline-kind due to my amazing ability to understand and speak cat.
I too am outraged. I have a natural affinity for cats and being quite cat-like myself, this is not only an insult on him, my beloved friend and business associate, it is an insult on me and I have taken it upon myself to speak for the cats…
Call me the cat whisperer if you will and I have something to say and this I will not whisper…I will shout it from yards, fence posts and the tops of trees: Cats are not killers!
As sophisticated and intelligent as they are, cats are animals with all the instincts for survival. They are carnivores and being as such, they like to chew on a bit of meat once in a while. For the most part our domesticated homebound pet cats are content with the food we humans provide, as you fellow cat owners I’m sure can attest to. My cats are not killers. Mario and Sunny prefer napping to killing. They are really just big babies and I will vouch for them on that…I repeat: they are no killers. Most of the culprits in these awful incidents involving birds and mice are feral cats. The poor homeless variety of cat that live on the margins of our society. They did not ask to be there and I’m sure they would love to be provided a nice home with food and love, but these poor unfortunates have been dealt a hard hand by fate and humankind. They have no choice but to hunt for their subsistence.
I don’t know the stats on this and I want to remain blissfully ignorant on the subject but I have to bring up the question: how many innocent animals are killed to provide subsidence to humankind? I am a meat eater myself and I am not trying to guilt anyone into vegetarianism although I do have a great respect for our noble vegetarian and vegan friends. I am just pointing out a bit of what I think is pertinent here.
I have an intense intolerance for hypocrites. I am a very forgiving and understanding person. I love sinners and I love reformed sinners even more but judgemental righteousness gets my dander up.
Sorry you had to see this side of me but I need to express my feelings on this. We as the dominant species on this planet have a duty to protect and care for those which cannot care for themselves, our beloved pets among them. So if you are considering getting a pet please do so with all the seriousness it merits. Make sure you have the room, time and resources to devote to a tiny life that will grow to love and depend on you. If you have not already done so, spay or neuter your animal. This is a crucial step in preventing any more unwanted ones, there are already too many. Another way to help is to donate to some fine organizations out there such as The Feral Cat Coalition that is helping to protect our furry friends. And one more thing; as a favor for me, Mario, and all the other cats out there. If you hear anyone bad mouthing our feline friends; put in a good word…cats are wonderful animals and do not deserve the reputation they have. I know they’d stick up for you.
Thanks for listening and have a purrfectly wonderful day!
“There is something really mysterious about lions. They could rip you apart if they wanted to, but at the same time they look so cuddly. Can you imagine what humans look like to animals? They must think we’re so weird.” Lee Ryan
“The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.”
I don’t have a lot going on right now so I have become my cat’s agent. It’s not what you think, I am not crazy or anything…it was his idea. He’s a very ambitious cat, a real go getter. It’s no wonder he’s famous here locally. And I guess it’s no wonder that his ambitions are leading him to bigger and better things.
He has spoken to me of his plans, well meowed them to me on many occasions, usually late at night after too much cat nip. He has dreams, that’s for sure but who doesn’t? I want to be a writer someday. My cat wants to be a star of stage and screen. I’m sure you have hopes and dreams too, so I know you understand that we sensitive artist types need to follow our dreams and thus I have not only encouraged him, I have become his agent.
A big part of this important and highly coveted job is the ability to think outside of the box, come up with excellent ideas and have the where-with-all to follow through. I pride myself on my common sense and intellect which I think makes me the perfect sort to promote an animal act.
9 Lives has Morris the cat who the company touts as the most famous cat in the world, that may be true for now but I think that Morris is all washed up, he’s out of date, I mean how old can a cat get? And those meow mix cats, all that constant mewing….cat’s don’t really do that.
What we need is a more realistic, more with-it , a now kind of cat. A cat for today. A spokescat that truly speaks to today’s generation.
That’s where Mario comes in. He and I both agree that he would be the purrfect choice to be the “The New Face of Friskies”
I know many of you have already been introduced to Mario, I also know a great many of you have joined his fan club and some of you have even attended a few of his lectures. So I don’t need to remind you of his magnetic presence, engaging personality, sharp wit and striking good looks. I mean who would be better for this?
“He certainly LOVES his Friskies and he eats quite a lot of it. That is why is he has a shiny and luxurious coatand such beautiful bright eyes.”
Now it’s up to me to convince The Friskies Corporation.
Realistically, I don’t see much of a problem there. That is more than apparent. Once the executives at Friskies meet with Mario they will be putty in his paws. He will be writing his own check and you can take that to the bank. He is bound for greatness and really there’s nothing stopping him….
…and this is only the beginning. First it will be commercials, then guest spots on popular TV shows, then maybe a little off Broadway and a few feature films and before you know it, he’ll be winning Oscars and I’ll be sitting at home like a bump on a log watching it all on the small screen and eating a frozen dinner all by myself while he lives the good life in Hollywood.
We’ve had long talks about this very thing. I am afraid the bright lights of “The Big City” will lure him away and change him forever. Maybe he’ll lose himself in a dark downward spiral of drugs and corruption. Maybe he’ll run with a fast crowd who’ll only want him for his fame and lifetime supply of Friskies (Seafood Sensations flavor, please)
He assures me this won’t happen and he does seem to have a good head on his shoulders, he is the smartest one in the house. I guess I can’t hold him back. I will miss the little guy but I know that someone who is that special cannot be kept back home on the farm….
…and so when I’m at home in a tattered old bathrobe watching The Oscars I’ll be cheering him on and I know you will too…he’s that kind of cat.
On a recent rainy Sunday I had the occasion to drop by the International Cat show appearing at a local motor hotel.
This wasn’t my first time at this particular Holiday Inn. It’s the place this crazy city chooses to put on some of the cheaper and more tacky events. I had last been here several years ago, for a bad art show and this day, this rainy Sunday reminded me of bad art.
M.M and I with teenage daughter in tow arrived about noon or so. The parking lot was packed, but by the grace of the good parking lot fairy, a miracle in the form of a departing minivan left a gap and MM masterfully grabbed it. I took this as a sign of good fortune in this year of the dragon and as soon as we landed I hydroplaned across the slick parking lot and almost ran right into a red VW bus full of hippies and cat people.
This I took as a sign of my utter stupidity and it wasn’t until I heard the frantic mewing that I stopped in my tracks….what was that? I listened, MM listened and so did our daughter…The parking lot was full of frantic cat cries…”Is that where the losers go?” Back to a locked car and who knows what?
After passing several nervous smokers we finally hit the front gate and into the show proper. We received our ballots with instructions on the voting. The winning cat gets 1000 bucks.. what does a cat do with 1000 dollars? I did not know until I saw it…..
What is it? Good question. It is a scene of utter foolishness and fools parting with their money. Rows upon rows of kitty condo cages crammed together, all customized I guess, according to each cat’s personality. Some of the cages proudly displayed an elaborate ribbon or two declaring their superiority. In each deluxe luxury unit lie a cat, flaked out and asleep surrounded by an array of cat accessories the likes I have never seen. These cats were tired and worn-out like overdone starlets sleeping it off in the lap of luxury. Who knows how long before they end up frantically mewing in a locked car in the parking lot out there with the others.
Just keep those ribbons coming Fluffy……
The owners of the cats seemed to be living quite a different life. Many of them hovered around their charge, eyeing each other and everyone who came near, seeing them as a potential threat. Don’t even think about trying to pet a cat. That is a strict no-no to the nth degree.
Never under any circumstances should you ever attempt to make any physical contact with any of the cat contestants.
This is the supreme sin in cat shows and we were reminded of that constantly.
Most of the cat owners were middle-aged women wearing ugly cat shirts and nervous stressed out faces. Many of them were eating foul-smelling chinese takeout that seemed to mix with the odor of cats to create an atmosphere I will never quite get over or explain.
Every few minutes or so an annoying man with a microphone and a raspy voice would cut through the roar of the crowd and shout out a number, calling up the next contestant. A harried backstage mother/owner would then jump up, frantically brush the cat and rush up to the stage while warning the onlookers out of the way by repeating over and over:
“Make room for people holding cats, make room for people holding cats.”
Pity the poor spectator who got in the way; these women meant business. I hate to admit it but some of them made me a wee bit nervous, especially the big ones.
I made my way past the harried and through the endless rows of cages to view and perhaps meet with a few contestants. Some of the more ambitious ones were out stirring up the crowd and posing for pictures.
We toured the entire circuit and I was afraid that I wouldn’t find a cat worthy of my vote for the 1000 dollar prize.
It was the high-pitched squeals that first alerted me, the kind some little girls and some bigger ones make upon presentation of something so unbelievably cute, and how…I joined the chorus of girly oohs and aahs as soon as I spied the cutest kitten there has ever been in all kittenkind. I realize the seriousness in that statement and I’m telling you cat lovers out there that it’s true and anyone in attendance would definitely agree. This kitten in all its kitten glory with its soft fuzzy spotted fur let out a silent mew that literally drove one woman to tears.
“I wasn’t ready for such cuteness.” she exclaimed as her wary boyfriend looked on.
This was one of the more surreal moments that will stick in my mind for some time to come. It wasn’t that I didn’t think it strange, I did. It was that I completely understood and was feeling a bit overwhelmed myself. The kitten was that cute. It was so cute that I neglected to take a picture of it. It was at that very moment that confirmed what I have really known all along…
These are my people..I am one of these cat people…..
I broke out of the crowd and made my way to the very back. Littered along the edges were tables with various vendors selling their various cat trinkets for various sums of money that seemed all too much for me. I visited each table and exhibit feigning interest and looking like a potential sap.
I stopped and watched a woman spinning yarn out of cat fur. She seemed nice and quite normal except for the fact that she was making cat yarn. She told me about the ups and downs of the day and how no one seemed to be buying her sweaters…
yes… cat fur sweaters….
I politely excused myself by mumbling something about the world’s tallest cat and how I must find it. After all it was the headliner….
I wandered around until I found the biggest crowd. It took some doing to get inside the circle and see what all the fuss was about. I ended up crawling under everyone but it was worth it because there it was! The world’s tallest cat! It resembled a smallish cheetah and it looked bored. I couldn’t fully appreciate its incredible tallness because it was sitting down. I crawled along the very ugly carpet and snapped a few pics… I’m glad I did because then suddenly my camera went buggy and refused to take anymore pictures. This was terrible…At a cat show?!
I must admit now that I came here not exclusively because of my love for cats. I came here to find weird-looking cats and take pictures of them so I could write about the weirdness. Now fate forced me to slow down and realize that I had yet to find a really strange-looking cat, most appeared pretty normal and even the one’s with the squished faces were sort of appealing.
We had about exhausted the place anyway and we all admitted that we were eager to leave to get home to our own cats…Mario, the black and white and Sunny, the Calico. They are the winners in my book and I give my vote to the both of them. Too bad that doesn’t win the $1000………
A blue-eyed stranger came to us this past July, we named him Jacky and he’s quite the cat. I’ve written of him before, this blue-eyed handsome cat and how he came to live with us. Much has happened since I last wrote of him. Jacky is turning out to be such an amazing cat, so amazing in fact I think he merits an update…
When last I wrote of him, Jacky was living in two houses, torn between myself and a foul-mouthed harpy down the street I’ve been calling Sally. Jacky would spend days with me in the garden, playing and napping and eating some good cat food. At night he would return to Sally. We had this unspoken shady agreement between us. I don’t think she liked it anymore than I did, but there it was.
Untill one night about two or three weeks ago. Jacky spent the night in the studio, curled up into a cute white furry ball on my writing chair. I left him there, and when I returned in the morning, he was still there asleep.
I was pleased but I didn’t think much of it. Jacky is a bit of a rogue and a wanderer. He’s there one moment , gone the next. Except this time he didn’t go, he stayed with me all day, following me around as I watered the flowers. That night, again he stayed and he has stayed every night since.
I know this sounds crazy but I think he is fascinated with water, running water. He prefers to drink out of our leaky bath tap. You can hear him jump in the bathtub: Plop. Sometimes he knocks over the shampoo. Sometimes he surprises me in the middle of the night. Every time he gets his sweet little face all wet and every time he is so cute! I know we should fix the drip, but how can we now?
I really knew this cat loved water when I was watering my lawn the other morning with a sprinkler and he was gingerly drinking from the arc of the spray. What a cat!
Jacky, our nutty feline also loves to go for walks with his favorite humans. Whenever M.M. takes the old pug out, Jacky tags along, trailing behind, intrigued with the whole process. He never wants to be left out on all the fun. He waits on the front porch, sunning himself and the moment any one of us steps out, he’s there. He walks ahead of us and then proceeds to roll all over the ground wiggling all over the place. He is very irresistible when he does this and we have to stop and pet him.
We go out on special walks, just he and I. We don’t go far, just around the block but it gives us just enough time to get into some pretty deep conversations. I would ask him his opinion about this and that; The economy, global warming, whether I’m too old to color my hair purple or we should take advantage of these historic low rates and refinance the house. He just meows at me but I get his message. He’s a pretty smart cat.
Really, he is smart, he sits and watches me make dinner every night now. He just sits on top of a high stool and stares intently. It’s as if he is trying to memorize everything I am doing so he can do it later. Maybe one morning he will surprise us with breakfast. He certainly is full of surprises.
Jacky has gained some weight and is getting a belly, but he still is in top shape. I have to give it to Mr. Friskies for that. I am not endorsing anything, the Friskies company is not paying me a dime, but I must say without a doubt, Since I’ve been feeding him the “seafood sensations” Jacky’s coat is so soft and luxurious and so white. He is also the most muscular cat I’ve ever encountered. I guess it’s all the exercise he gets, walking and skillfully hunting moths by moonlight.
I think moths are attracted to him because he literally glows in the dark. He sits under the light and the moths come to him. What a trippy cat. Jacky has definitely made life around here more interesting.
I was restless in the wee hours so I decided it would be the perfect time for some night writing. I stepped out into the darkness. There is a certain quietness at night that I like to curl up with. The night is solemn, it’s still and penetrating. I can do much pondering at night. It is empty enough for me to feel the oneness of everything and I feel connected to it. I walked down the long sidewalk and into the studio.
The usual suspects, Mario, Jacky and Sunny, were already on the scene. Mario sat atop his perch on the desk, Sunny planted herself in the night garden and Jacky was sleeping in my chair.
I write in a converted garage that’s quite nice. It has cherry paneling and two skylights. It’s located at the south end of the garden under a tall pine tree. It’s really more of an office but we call it the studio. This is where all the magic begins. Ha Ha. Well, I like it. It is the perfect place to write.
The cats think it is the perfect place to nap and Jacky has taken a liking to my chair. We have to arm-wrestle for it daily and he usually wins. He’s very muscular. Mario likes to sit atop the desk. Sunny; she’s her own cat and wildly independent. She likes to spend most of her nights in the cool air outside.
Jacky is a recent addition to our family. It can be difficult introducing a new pet to the household. Adding to that the fact that Jacky is almost full-grown and a male. Mario was the ruler of the roost before Jacky came and there has been some tense moments. Mario feels a little put out and perhaps jealous, as well. Jacky is trying to find his place. I know he wants to fit in and as time goes on, he’s doing just that.
“The Boys” ( Mario and Jacky) have been spending time together and I can just tell that someday they’ll be the best of buddies. Sunny on the other hand, still hisses at Jacky once in a while. I hate to say this but Sunny can be a little testy. We love her but she doesn’t have the best of temperaments. M.M. has nicknamed her “The Rat Mole”, A name that has stuck. She also is known by Santino or Sunny two-tones because she is a Calico.
I have just come the strange realization that all three cats have gangster names. Mario, Jacky and Santino. This may mean something, I will have to ponder this…
Just as I am pondering, I hear a sound of rustling in the bushes. It is loud and I and the cats freeze. The two boys and I slowly creep out of the studio to investigate.
We see them and they see us. It takes me a minute before I realise that there are six of them. They are raccoons and they are so cute. I know they are wild but they seem so cuddly. The closest raccoon looked at me right in the eyes. It seemed to be asking me for something. I began to speak to the raccoon in the soft sing-song voice I reserve for animals and babies.
The raccoon inched closer, I think I could have lured it in the house. It seemed so tame. It seemed to be fascinated with me talking to it. It inched even closer, all of a sudden I get tense, I back up right into a potted plant. I let out a small sound of surprise and the raccoons scatter into the night. I curse my clumsiness and gaze into the darkness. It’s just as well.
I laugh as I think of the look M.M. would give me If I brought a raccoon into the house. He already thinks I’m crazy, but it just might be a lunatic he’s looking for.
Hoping you find what you’re looking for….Strawberryindigo.
Have you ever met someone who just appeared in your life, as if out of thin air and acted like they knew you forever. It’s like they we’re just sort of deposited on your front porch and poof…They’d always been there? Well, with Jacky it’s like that. I guess I should let you know that Jacky is a cat. A remarkable cat, that’s for sure.
We first met him on the third of July. He impressed me by his friendliness, he seemed to really like us. He made M.M. his first acquaintance, which is not surprising. what was so surprising was his intensity. At that time, we of course did not have a name for him, or even knew he was an him. Let’s call him “that cat” for now.
I will give him this; he is an attractive animal, that cat. He is white with honey cream-colored markings on this head and tail. His bright azure eyes truly are striking. He makes quite the picture.
We had just returned from a much-needed vacation. We were away for five days. He must have appeared on the scene during that time. It was late afternoon and my nerves were on edge. Sudden booms, it’s like World War Three around there on the third of July. I needed a distraction…and there he was, a shock of white, running across the street away from the crazy neighbors screeching kid. He looked scared out of his wits. I knew I must help him.
I enlisted the help of M.M.. We braved the artillery together (How sweet) M.M. sang out “Here, Kitty, Kitty…” The cat looked at him and ran to him for dear life, not even slowing a bit to look behind him. M.M. scooped him up like it was nothing and the cat instantly relaxed. We took him inside.
Luckily, It being the day it was. Our two cats who off hiding in the bushes nowhere to be found. And except for the old pug, there was no other animal around to make the cat feel unwelcome.
The humans adored him instantly. My daughter, who is thirteen and a devout cat lover, squealed in delight. My son, who’s a bit older, was a little cooler about the cats appearance, but I could tell he was intrigued. I being who I am, knew that the cat was new in the neighborhood. We asked around and one of our saner neighbors told us the cat had been hanging around for days, everyone had a name for her, (He thought the cat was a her) but no one wanted her. His own kids wanted the cat but he was allergic, he suggested I keep her. Knowing what a sucker I am for cats.
We fed him friskies and he was ours.
He slept for days, waking only to eat and drink water out of the bathroom tap. I guess he’s one of those, I’d seen cats like that before. I had one once that was fascinated by water, couldn’t get enough of it…it was the first of his many quirks that time would reveal. The days passed without a lot going on. My crazy neighbors were out-of-town and a calm descended over the ‘hood.
The four of us deliberated during that time and my son came up with Jack Daniels, yes he did… To me, he looked like a Jacky. We settled on Jacky, Daniels being his official last name, told to those on a need to know basis.(aka his friends at school.)
Our two cats were suspicious to say the least. Mario didn’t know what was going on. I know he felt bad. He just sulked for days, sleeping under the desk in the office. Poor Mario. Sunny, or as she is known; Santino, kept her cool and out-of-the-way.
Everything started to return to normal. Mario perked up and Santino stayed herself. The crazy neighbors had returned, I could hear them screaming, as I said, everything was returning to normal. Except for one thing. I could hear a voice… it was….”Here Kitty Kitty, Here Lucky” Who’s Lucky? I thought and dismissed it from my mind.
Jacky stayed out all night, we didn’t see him all morning and then…the screetching, the kids.. it’s all happening again… And there’s Jacky, a shock of white running away from the crazy neighbor’s kid and right toward me. I scooped him up and stroked his fur. He was freaked out, poor thing and he was hungry, he ate, drank the water from the leaky tap and settled in to sleep.
This might become a problem, I thought… I was right.
The next morning while I was watering my roses, the crazy neighbor’s much older kid, let’s call her Sally, comes up to me and asks me if I’ve been feeding that white cat. I reply without beating an eyelash, “You mean the cat we adopted?” She looked as stern as you can be and I must admit, I was a bit scared. She’s a bigger girl than I am. Plus I’m a big chicken. This did not show though, I’m good at that. I didn’t know what happened to her. (her again) She breaks out in a fragment of a sentence. I return a fragment myself..
It was one word. Turmoil. “What”? She asks, confused. I yell, “Turmoil!! And walk away.. this could get ugly. I start to regret taking the cat in and then I think…He is counting on me to save him from them. I must help him. The cute little guy with his charming debonair smile. I can’t let him down….