Friday, January 22, 2010


Two felines share my house, or more accurately, I have the privilege of serving as the personal assistant in their home. Maureen (Mo) arrived angry, frightened, and wet (she peed upon herself) on a cold rainy night. She belonged to the brother of my best friend. He had been playing roughly with her, the Jack Russell terrier and three year old son. She was cornered and went for the weakest link – she bit the boy on the arm. His wife ordered him to remove the cat and that is how she ended up at my house on a proverbial dark and stormy night. The boy was fine and still loves cats.

Mo was a 7-year-old tortoise-shell calico mix. Piercing green eyes and an attitude. Cotter, the previous owner of the cat obtained her as a kitten from a shelter. She probably was the offspring of feral animals. He obviously loved her but his girlfriend, who became a spouse, did not. Once they gained a dog and child, Mo was sequestered to the basement. The only attention she received was when Cotter would venture down to play with her on occasion. The result of neglect was a withdrawn, angry and human-wary critter.

I never planned to have an indoor cat. Outdoor farm-cats were the only felines that I interacted with on a regular basis. My grandmother had extensive gardens and maintained about 100 cats to ensure that her crop was protected from small beasts. I wanted a dog but Mo arrived instead. I was only going to house her temporarily. She bit me three times, unprovoked, and I warned her that one more drop of blood and she would go to the shelter. A regular shelter would have exterminated her immediately due to the biting. It would have cost a lot of money to place her in a no-kill shelter. She must have understood because during the ensuing six years – she has never bit me.

Mo prefers to curl up next to me when I sit on the couch. She will grab my hand and purr while I rub her soft belly. She loves to sleep with her head in my hand. Her warm moist breath tickles my palm. I guess that I am now her person. I don’t consider myself a “parent” I am a personal assistant, catering to her every whim… (well, maybe not every desire or she’d weigh 40 lbs).

Time to get Mo a saucer of milk (a couple tablespoons only).
(c) 2010

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