Furever Friends

by Patricia Fry

  “That’s incredible!” Kat said. “From what I’ve read in your meowmoirs, he can be quite the scoundrel, yet he’s also amazingly savvy or he’s just exceptionally curious and has excellent timing. Which is it, Savannah?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know—all of the above, I guess.”

  “Well, I definitely want to write about him. The world should know that cats like Rags exist. Maybe more people would give cats a chance in their home and in their heart. Do you think so?”

  “One can only hope,” Savannah said.

  “So, as far as your presentation, yes, bring Rags, bring your videos and still shots of him—oh, and maybe a snippet of the documentary he stars in. Can you do that?”

  “I imagine so,” Savannah said.

  “That sounds amazing. Oh, and would you write a description of your presentation and send a publicity photo of you and Rags for the website and the program? And your bio, please.”

  Savannah winced. “Sure, I can give it a try. Maybe you can tweak it to fit your preferred style and requirements. I’m new to promotional writing.”

  “Sure,” Kat said, taking a sip of iced tea.

  “How long will you be here in Hammond?” Savannah asked. Without waiting for an answer, she suggested, “Do you want to come over this afternoon to spend some time with Rags? Or, hey, maybe you’d like to attend the meeting of our Hammond Cat Alliance tomorrow. It’s at our house.”

  Kat grinned. “Yes, to both invitations.”

  Savannah smiled, then asked, “Where are you staying?”

  “At that hotel on the edge of town.”

  After mulling it over for a few moments, Savannah invited, “Why don’t you stay with us?”

  “Really?” Kat asked.

  “Yes, we have the room, if you don’t mind the clutter of children’s toys, a house full of cats and a dog,” she winced, “and there’s construction going on outside, so it’s noisier and dustier than usual.”

  “Construction?” she questioned.

  “They’re putting up portable corrals for the horses I told you about.”

  “Oh my. So you weren’t already set up as a boarding facility?”

  “No. We just have two horses of our own and actually only one corral. The second horse came to us recently and we’ve been keeping her in the workout ring. So what do you think?” Savannah asked.

  Kat nodded. “Sure, I appreciate the invitation, but I’m afraid I have someone with me.”

  “Oh?” Savannah questioned.

  “Yes, my newest constant companion, Suki.” When she saw Savannah’s questioning look, she smiled. “He’s a Savannah, would you believe?”

  Savannah’s eyes widened. “Really? I’ve never spent the night with a Savannah. In fact, I’ve never spent time with one at all. That will be a treat. Is Suki as curious and active as I hear most exotic cats are?”

  “Oh yes,” Kat said, “and more. Are you sure you want him as a houseguest?”

  “Definitely. I wonder what Rags will think of him. Will you bring him to the conference?”

  “I plan to, yes. I hope he’ll be a good boy.”

  “So he hasn’t been to one before?” Savannah asked. “Did you say this is the third annual conference?”

  Kat nodded. “Yes, our third, and no, Suki hasn’t been to a conference. You see, I’ve only had him for a matter of months. I adopted him on a whim—well, I just couldn’t resist him. He’s only ten months old, so still a rowdy kitten.” She chuckled. “I took him to a local cat-adoption rally last month and learned a few things.”

  “Oh?” Savannah urged.

  “Well, he’s pretty excitable, but more so when he’s around a lot of people and other cats. This stimulates him more than I realized. It was suggested that I sedate him for the conference, but I’m not sure I want to do that. This may sound crazy, but I contacted an animal psychic, to, perhaps get a little insight as to why he behaves the way he does.” She cringed. “I wanted to know what I can do to settle him down when we’re out and about. I envision him being a therapy cat someday. He comes from a line of cats used for therapy and entertainment, but not the same way a typical calm, therapy cat is used—know what I mean? Suki’s not a lap cat, but he’s comical, fun to be around, and smart as the dickens. I’ve taught him a few tricks. With the right training and approach, some of these cats will agree to perform.”

  Savannah nodded. “As I understand it, they perform best when there’s a lot of activity involved.”

  “You got that right—jumping through hoops, climbing up a ladder to ring a bell, things like that.”

  “Cool. I can’t wait to meet Suki.” Savannah cocked her head. “I’m curious. What did the psychic say?”

  Kat took a deep breath. “Well, she said Suki’s a bit confused about his role as a cat, as, she says, many exotics are. He evidently told her he loves me and most of the other humans he’s met, but he’s puzzled by most of the other cats. Suki told her they don’t understand him and he can’t seem to develop a rapport with them. He said the other cats at my place aren’t very much fun. They laze around a lot.” Kat laughed. “Which is true. They seem overwhelmed by him. He just comes on a little strong. I have a couple of shy females who hide from Suki. Patsy, the psychic, said this makes Suki feel bad. He thinks he must be doing something wrong and he doesn’t know what it is.”

  Savannah raised her eyebrows. “Interesting. Did she have some advice for him?”

  “She did,” Kat said. “She suggested that he stop trying so hard to be accepted and that he should laze around a little bit more and maybe he’ll fit in with the other cats over time.”

  “And have you seen a change in him since he had that reading?”

  Kat shook her head. “Not really. I guess these things take time. In the meantime, I’ve ordered him a larger cat tree and I’m having kitty-cat walkways, stairs, and shelves installed all around the walls in a couple of the rooms in my house.”

  “Sounds like a good solution. He’ll probably love that,” Savannah said. “She looked at her watch. “Hey, I’d better get back. Want to take down our address?” Once Kat had typed it into her phone, Savannah said, “Dinner’s usually around six. We’re having beef stew tonight, so there will be plenty.”

  “Thank you.” Kat started to pick up her purse and scoot out of the booth when she remembered something. “By the way, before I forget, if you’d like to watch an endurance ride, there’s a short one about thirty miles out of Phoenix the weekend of our conference. I think it’s Sunday and our conference ends Saturday night.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I have a friend who rides in those and she mentioned to me just the other day that she’d love to come to the conference—she’s also an active cat advocate—but she’s doing the ride that weekend. Even though the ride itself is Sunday, there are preliminary activities for the participants, and she wants to make sure her mare’s ready.”

  “Yes,” Savannah said, “I’d definitely be interested in watching one of those. Thanks for the tip. And be sure to tell June Balcomb and Nola that we had lunch together. I think you’ll find them most charming and their facility is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s the perfect home for displaced feral cats. I understand they’ve even been able to quite successfully adopt out some of them.”

  “Really?” Kat remarked.

  “Yes,” Savannah said. “They’ve found homes for even some of the hard-core ferals. Oh, they may never become indoor house pets, but Nola coaches people in designing safe and comfortable outdoor areas for cats that are not ready for indoor living, but who are becoming fairly relaxed around people.”

  “I can’t wait to meet these women and see their facility. It sounds like a great model for others.” She scooted out of the booth and walked toward the door. Savannah followed. Once they were outside, Kat hugged Savannah. “Thank you. I look forward to spending time with Rags. I wonder what he’ll think of Suki.”

 
“Yeah, I wonder,” Savannah said.

  ****

  “So where’s this exotic cat Vannie told me about?” Gladys asked their guest that evening over dinner. “I’ve been interested to meet him.”

  “Oh,” Kat said, “I’ve found it’s best to allow him a timeout period when we go someplace new. Otherwise he can be pretty wild.” She glanced at the ceiling. “You don’t have chandeliers, but if you did, he might be hanging from them about now.” She looked around the dining room. “Where’s Rags?” She smiled. “I see that adorable Himalayan in her little queen bed over there. She’s so sweet. And I saw the black cat on a chair in the living room, but I haven’t seen Rags in a while.” She chuckled. “Did you send him to his room?”

  “I wish it were that easy to get rid of him,” Michael quipped.

  Savannah gave him a sideways glance before saying, “He’s probably upstairs sniffing under the door, getting to know Suki.”

  Kat laughed. “I hope they get along. If not, Suki can stay in his pen. No problem. I’ll have to let him out before bedtime though, so he can get rid of any excess energy, which I’m sure he’s accumulated since he’s been in the pen most of the day.”

  “Sounds like a handful,” Gladys said. She leaned closer. “So he’s part some sort of wild cat?”

  “The Savannah is the result of breeding between a serval and a domestic cat,” Kat explained.

  “Savannah, huh?” Gladys said. She pointed across the table. “Both of you have cat names. Isn’t that unique?”

  The two women looked at each other and Savannah agreed, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “So the serval is a wild cat?” Gladys asked.

  “Yes, by most standards,” Kat said, “but each generation of kittens from this breeding tends to calm down some—with a few exceptions.” She took a sip of coffee. “The Savannah is pretty well domesticated now, but they can be mischievous. Suki’s still young, and he’s a handful.” She asked Michael. “Do you get many Savannahs as patients in your practice?”

  He used his napkin, then said, “A few. A woman in the next town has a couple of them. Her veterinarian won’t treat them, so she brings them to me for their annual checkup and any health issues. There was one out at June Balcomb’s place. Someone surrendered her to Nola last month. I imagine she’s been adopted by now. Exotic cats are usually scooped up in a hurry.”

  “Yes, and they often end up back in a shelter,” Kat complained.

  “Because people don’t know what they’re getting into when they adopt one?” Gladys asked.

  Kat nodded. “Yes, and that’s partly because the people adopting them out don’t fully educate those who think they want to own one. It’s a huge commitment.”

  Michael chuckled. “Tell me about it.” When Kat looked puzzled, he said, “We have a cat that requires our full attention. He’s a commitment, and a liability at times.”

  “Awww,” Kat said, “are you talking about Rags? Hey, he’s just curious and smart, that’s all. After spending time with him earlier this evening, I’d guess that he has some exotic cat background—Bengal, Savannah, Chausie maybe, only he sure doesn’t look like an exotic. What is his background?”

  “Ragdoll,” Savannah said with a grin.

  “No kidding!” Kat exclaimed. “Ragdoll?” she repeated disbelieving.

  “Yes, his mother was a purebred Ragdoll who went out roaming the neighborhood one night,” Savannah explained.

  “So you don’t know who’s on the other end of his genealogy chart,” Kat challenged. “Maybe a bobcat or a renegade lynx.”

  Savannah chuckled. “So you think he might have come by his extreme behavior honestly?”

  “Sure I do. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Rags.”

  “Yeah, coming from someone who lives with a bona fide wildcat,” Michael joked.

  “Speak of the devil,” Kat said when she saw Rags running down the staircase toward them. “Hi Rags, did you get bored trying to get to know Suki from under the door?”

  Savannah sat up straight. “Rags, what’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?” Michael asked.

  “He’s acting a little anxious.”

  “He wants you to follow him,” Gladys said. “That’s what Lexie does when she wants me to take her outside. She runs to the door and looks longingly at me and kind of frantic-like.”

  Savannah stood up. “I think you’re right, Mom. What is it, Rags?” she asked, walking toward him.

  Kat jumped to her feet as well. “This I gotta see.”

  “What,” Michael asked, “a cat bent on interrupting our dinner just so we’ll accommodate one of his whims?”

  Kat laughed. “Yeah, he must be part African wildcat or caracal or…”

  “I believe it,” Michael grumbled as he watched the two women follow Rags up the staircase.

  “Oh, I get it,” Savannah said when she saw Rags stop in front of the closed door to Kat’s room. “You want Suki to come out and play, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, that’s what he wants, all right,” Kat said, petting him as he clawed at the door. “Not yet,” she said. “Let’s finish dinner first, then I’ll bring him out on his leash. How about that, boy?”

  After a few moments, Savannah said, “Kat, I’m concerned. I think we should check on Suki.”

  Kat frowned. “Oh, I’m sure he’s just fine. He’s in his pen.”

  “Let’s humor Rags, shall we? He’s obviously upset about something.”

  “Yeah, he can’t get into the room,” Kat said. “That’s what’s got him upset. Cats hate closed doors.” She ran her hand over Rags’s fur. “And this one knows how to get your attention.” She listened at the door for a moment. “But I wonder why we don’t hear Suki carrying on in there. His patience for being in his pen is usually quite short.”

  “Let’s check on him,” Savannah suggested again.

  “Okay,” Kat said, opening the door. She flipped on the light and stopped in her tracks. “Well, that’s odd. Where is he?”

  “Inside his little bed there?” Savannah offered, moving closer to the pen. “Uh-oh. Kat, the door’s open. Did you leave the door to the pen open?”

  “No, darn it!” She glanced around the room. “Suki. Suki, where are you?”

  When Savannah saw Rags run toward the walk-in closet, she followed him. Seconds later, she screamed, “Oh no! Oh, God, no!”

  “What?” Kat said, running into the closet where Savannah held the unconscious kitten.

  “He hung himself!” Savannah screeched while releasing a wire coat hanger from around Suki’s neck.

  Kat shrieked and put her hands up to her mouth. Shaking, she asked, “How could that happen? Is he…?”

  “Get Michael!” Savannah shouted. She ran with Suki to the bed, laid him down, and listened for a heartbeat. She immediately started giving him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. When she saw that Kat was still frozen in place, she shouted again, “Get Michael!” She gave the cat a few more breaths and hollered, “Michael!”

  He was on his way up the stairs by the time Kat had started down. When he entered the room and saw Savannah working over the limp cat, he asked, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Kat said. “There was a hanger…”

  “He hung himself on a coat hanger,” Savannah said quickly while gently compressing the cat’s tiny chest.

  “Want me to take over?” he asked.

  Savannah nodded and stepped out of Michael’s way.

  “Get my stethoscope,” he called before he began working on the cat.

  When she returned with it, he listened. “Heart’s fairly strong,” he said, continuing the resuscitation procedure. He stopped once in a while and listened for a breath. Finally, he said, “Got it. He’s breathing.”

  “Thank God,” Kat said, collapsing into a chair. Savannah put her hand on Kat’s shoulder and squeezed in an attempt to comfort her.

  Soon the cat
was moving. He rolled over, looked around, then stood up. When he saw Rags, he became quite interested and approached him. He looked him over, then trotted to Kat, who picked him up and snuggled with him, tears running down her cheeks. She buried her face in Suki’s fur. Seconds later, he squirmed to get down. Reluctantly, she let him go and Rags walked up to her and sniffed her hands. She petted him. “Rags, you saved my Suki. Oh my gosh, Savannah, he is a special cat, isn’t he? How did he know?”

  “Well, he might have heard Suki struggling in here. I don’t know,” Savannah said. She petted Rags. “It’s such a blessing that he led us to him. I’m still shaking. That was close.” She looked at Kat. “How in the world did Suki…?”

  Kat shook her head in disbelief, “It’s the nature of the cat. I was told once that a household can be perilous for a cat like Suki. The wild side wants to explore and sometimes they run into challenges they can’t handle. You see, there are different dangers in the house than in the wilds.”

  Savannah let out a sigh. “I thought it was a job to Rags-proof our home, but I can see that it would be a whole other level to Suki-proof it.” She examined the pen. “So how’d he jimmy the latch?”

  Kat grimaced. “That’s another thing I was warned about. According to people who know these cats, some of them are pretty good locksmiths. That’s why I generally leave the door to a room closed even when I have him in his pen. But this is the first time he’s opened the pen, at least since I’ve had him.”

  “Probably Rags gave him instructions through the door,” Michael offered.

  Kat stared up at him for a moment, then said, “Oh, you’re joking.”

  He winked at her. “Don’t be too sure.”

  Kat cocked her head. “Savannah, how did you know what to do? Have you done mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on a cat before?”

  “Yes, a couple of times. I’m a veterinarian, too, so I have the training. I actually had my first experience with cat CPR when I was still in school and working as a tech at a large clinic in Los Angeles. Someone brought in a cat that’d been overcome by smoke. They thought they had her stabilized, but as I prepped her for the veterinarian on duty, she stopped breathing. I pressed the emergency bell and started mouth-to-mouth and chest compressions. Boy, was I scared.”