‘That’s a great idea...I agree,’ Tony says giving her a hug.
I look at Oliver with loving half closed eyes and he returns my affection. He is pleased with Tony’s suggestion.
After Tony pets Oliver again, he sits on the carpet and washes himself thoroughly. ‘Smelling of human perfumes and gels is most undignified for a cat,’ he says to me. ‘I need to smell like me again.’
Karen calls me. ‘You are my beauty, Bella,’ she says. ‘I don’t need a cat show competition to tell me how beautiful and special you are.’
After the excitement, Oliver runs around the house a few times to burn off the energy he controlled during the day. He is pleased with himself. The win has lifted his mood, and he walks proudly again. His slender tail is straight and high expressing his joy. Though he says nothing about the judging experience, I guess that being prodded and examined by strange Humans was not fun. I give him head butts to congratulate him, but I don’t want to spoil his pleasure with too many questions.
‘We are both special,’ I say to him. ‘I am a Therapy Cat and you are a Show Cat. Isn’t that wonderful.’
‘Absolutely!’ He says. ‘We are lucky that Karen and Tony rescued us and care for us, but they are lucky to have us too. They have two very special cats.’
By now we are both purring.
Since his win at the cat show, Oliver has been naughty again. Yesterday, he tried to climb the curtains, but with his claws trimmed, he was unable to reach the top. Then, he pulled the cover off the big bed, and dragged it through the house to demonstrate his strength. Now that he has grown, he can jump up to low door handles, and prod them until they open. Opening cupboards are easy for him too.
Karen has told him to “settle down”, and said “no” to him a few times, but he takes more notice of Tony. When Oliver showed off last night by opening a door after Tony closed it, he made Tony so angry that he sprayed Oliver with water.
He will stop showing off eventually, or spend time in the laundry as I did.
When we are in the garden, I usually keep one eye open, in case Oliver tries to hang on the branches of the half-tree. He may fall, or get up to some other mischief. His name ought to be “Mischief”.
Today, watching him is tiring. I drift off to sleep and dream one of my favourite dreams in an earlier life.
I am in an enormous sacred place where Humans wearing long, white clothes that almost touch the ground, walk slowly, quietly and with dignity. There are many cats about, and each one is respected. We guard the sacred place for the Humans.
I am annoyed when my intriguing dream is interrupted by slurping sounds. I follow the noise to the wire fence. Honey’s pointed nose and tongue is poking through the fence. I am horrified. She is licking Oliver’s face.
Jumping Rats! He is not only allowing her to lick him, but he is purring with delight.
What in Catland is happening with Oliver and Honey? I am both revolted and astounded!.
Meeowwwwww! I call to Karen, but she is talking on her hand phone again.
‘Shush, shush!’ She says to me.
Meeeow meeeow! I insist.
‘Bella is going crazy...I’ll call you back.’
She follows me outside. Then she laughs so much that she wipes her eyes.
‘Really, Bella! Honey likes Oliver, and he is enjoying the attention. You dislike dogs and don’t approve, that’s all.’
She opens the fence gate and allows Honey into our garden. I stand back as the small dog bounds in. I prepare to climb the half-tree if necessary. With a yelp, Honey runs towards me, her tail wagging furiously. I stand my ground while she comes closer.
Wuff, wuff,
Oliver runs to her. I move forward cautiously.
‘Let’s play,’ Oliver says, as he chases Honey.
Disgusted with Oliver, I stand back, as I watch them run after each other, roll, and pretend to fight. They play and have fun.
Cat Learning! It seems that I made a big mistake about Honey, one of my worst ever. She is more like a cat than I thought, and is nothing like the aggressive dogs I know. She has no intention of harming us, but that doesn’t mean that I like her, or her smell.
I think of the dog who helped the blind man at the hospital, and all the therapy dogs who visit and help sick Humans in the same way as I do. I realise that my personal experience has biased me against dogs. There is a lot I have to learn about dogs. I have made a serious error of judgement, thinking all dogs were the same – nasty, wild, smelly, cat haters and dangerous. Some are like that, but I need to be a more Flexible Cat in my thinking about dogs...and everything in future.
The world is white outside, and soft, fluffy, wetness falls from the sky. It is not like rain, but cold and watery. I shudder. I tried walking in it only once, and rushed inside to dry myself next to a heating vent. Even in the heated house, Karen is wearing two jumpers, so it must be cold.
She rubs her hands together and says to Tony, ‘The snow is pretty, but it is cold and slippery. Just as well it doesn’t snow here often.’
Oliver looks at the pretty, white, outdoor world longingly. He is intrigued by its smoothness and the falling flakes from the sky.
His quivering nose and wide-eyed expression tells me that he is longing to go outside and experience the whiteness.
I say nothing to him. He is a mature cat now and he must make his own choices.
Meow, Meow, he says to Karen, as he stands at the cat door leading to our garden.
‘Seriously Oliver, you want to go out into the snow?’
She laughs, as she opens the door. A rush of cold air follows as Oliver runs out. Quickly, she closes the cat door. The flakes are falling slowly, as he runs onto the whiteness. His footprints make indentations as he searches for the once familiar rocks and bushes all covered in white now.
I can’t believe it. He is rolling in the snow, jumping and sliding. He tries to climb the half-tree but slips down. He tries again by jumping up to the wet branches and clinging to them. He uses his strength to reach the bottom branch of the tree. Then, cautiously, he climbs a little higher. He sits on the branch and looks out on the white world below.
‘He’s like a beautiful snow statue,’ Karen says.
She calls Tony.
‘Isn’t he amazing...and how beautiful,’ Tony says.
I am impressed at Oliver’s strength and perseverance, and his desire to claim his territory, even in the wet snow. I certainly wouldn’t go out there, or even attempt to climb the tree. Now that’s brave Catness!
Oliver slides down the tree trunk, and runs to the cat door. Karen opens it and laughs as he shakes himself. He doesn’t even look in my direction, but runs straight to the heating vent.
After this experience in the snow, he doesn’t ask to go out again. We play indoors or sit near the vents to keep warm.
Tony is turning twenty – nine on the weekend and Karen is giving him a birthday party. He seems very old to me. I will be lucky to reach sixteen or possibly a little more, in human years. She has begun to bake sweet things and put them in the icy cold fridge. I hear her say that about seventy people are expected. Due to the cold, everyone will be inside. I am sure that both of us will be in the back room for most of the time.
Though I will hate it, feeling crushed amongst so many Humans could be far worse.
Today it is Tony’s birthday. Karen is up early to make him a special breakfast of pancakes and to give him a present. He revels in the love and attention and likes his present – something to do with computers. She puts a blue bow around Oliver’s neck and I have to endure a pink bow.
Rotten Rats! Bows on cats are ridiculous.
Liz and Pops are here to celebrate Tony’s birthday, and two of Karen’s friends are helping with moving the furniture from the sitting room to make more space for the guests. With all the noise and rushing, I find a safe warm spot and keep out of Liz’s way.
I vehemently dislike things being changed or moved in our house. Routine and predictability is, as always, ext
remely important. I prefer everything to remain the same in our house, and I know that Oliver does too.
As I expected, Karen locks us in the back room before the guests arrive.
‘Be good, you two,’ she says.
Though we are at the back of the house, we can hear the guest’s footsteps, their laughter and talking.
‘Humans are very strange indeed,’ Oliver says, his blue eyes puzzled.
‘Agreed, and the longer you live with them, the stranger they will seem,’ I say.
A loud banging noise is followed by Tony talking louder than usual. He thanks everyone for celebrating with him, for their good wishes and their gifts.
To gain everyone’s attention, he bangs loudly again. ‘We have some wonderful news to share with you all. Karen is expecting a baby in a few months and we are absolutely thrilled.’
The room erupts in clapping and calling out, “congratulations”.
‘I am happy that she knows now, and that she and Tony are sharing their good news,’ I say to Oliver, purring loudly.
Oliver is bewildered. ‘Karen is going to have a kitten ... and you knew?’
I purr again.
‘Her body had an unusual smell. It took me some time to realise that it was similar to the smell of cats carrying kittens.’
‘I missed it completely,’ he says. ‘But I’m not as close to Karen as you are.’
I don’t tell Oliver that I have realised something important. He may laugh at me. Humans are animals – big ones with two legs – fur on their heads and only a little on their bodies. We are animals too, though we have fur coats and four legs. Though we are very different, in some way we are connected, and similar. That is how I managed to recognise the smell of a kitten baby on the way.
The noise lessens at last, and we hear Karen’s footsteps.
‘Time for you two to make an entrance,’ she says. She carries Oliver out of the room first and returns for me.
‘Our two lovely cats,’ she says, introducing us to the guests.
The cat lovers amongst the group circle around us. We both enjoy the attention and the admiring words said about us.
Yummow! The best part is the food. Karen gives us a plate each of assorted delights.
Then, she returns us to the back room. Footsteps and talking outside the house finally tells us that the party is over. The guests are departing. Soon, there are sounds of the furniture being moved back into place, and the vacuum buzzing. Thankfully, Karen frees us, Liz has gone, and the house is ours again.
Today is a holiday, and we all sleep late. An atmosphere of relaxation fills the house. I sit next to Karen on the couch, wind my tail around her, and purr.
She looks at me. ‘You are the most incredible, special cat Bella, and I love you so much. A few weeks ago, you licked my tummy and patted it with your paws. You were telling me that I was going to have a baby – a human kitten. I don’t know how you knew, but you are correct. Tony and I are absolutely thrilled. Pops, Liz, and my dad and sister are happy for us too, but all our lives are going to change.’
I love Karen and I’m happy for her too, but Oliver and I will have to learn to adapt to the changes or we will lose some of our Catness.
I hardly recognise Emma when she walks into Karen’s room. She has the same curvaceous shape, but other things have changed about her. It is difficult to put a “paw on it”, but she seems brighter, and her voice is happier.
‘Before I tell you my news, I want to thank you for taking Bella to visit my friend Ava in hospital. Ava is home now, and much stronger. Seeing and touching you, Bella, lifted her spirits.’ She looks at me and smiles before continuing. Ava told me a strange story. When her food arrived with some chicken for Bella as well, Ava wasn’t at all hungry. But, Bella wanted the chicken, and she nagged Ava to eat too. She put her paw firmly on Ava’s arm, and stared hard at her. When Bella ate her food, Ava began to eat too...and that was the start of her recovery.’
I listened intently as Karen and Emma talked about a cat’s ability to help and heal.
Too few people know that our purr and our loving cuddles can heal. I’m pleased that Ava is recovering.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you for ages, but I am doing my homework now...most of the time...and I think it is helping me,’ Emma says.
‘Well, you’re looking great...and I hope you are feeling good too.’
‘I have stopped being so obsessed about losing weight, and I like myself a little more.’ She smiles shyly. ‘I have some new friends and a boyfriend.’
While they talk, I doze, catching snatches of their conversation. I am alerted when Emma mentions the word “cat”.
‘It must be great to be a cat like Bella – loved, no selfimage problems and always in the same coat.’
Karen laughs.
‘Hey, Bella!’ Emma says in a soft voice.
I am asleep after an early breakfast, when a loud noise wakes me.
‘The truck and the men have arrived,’ Tony shouts to Karen. ‘They can start work inside first...if that’s okay with you.’
Oliver is awake now, too. We are both at the window trying to see what is happening. Three huge Humans in dark overalls are unloading large boxes and equipment. Tony greets them and they follow him into the house through the back door.
‘We’d better lock up the cats,’ I hear him tell Karen. ‘I have already moved their litterboxes, food and water.’
Rat’s Poo! What in Catland is going on in our house this time?
Before we have time to consider what to do, Karen picks me up and Tony has Oliver in his arms.
Meow! meow! They ignore our calls of distress and carry us to the back room.
‘Sorry cats. Both of you will have to stay in this room while the men are working inside the house. There’s everything you need in here. It will be home for a while,’ Karen says.
More Rat’s Poo! Never a day without something interfering with our routine.
Oliver and I look at each other. ‘What’s going on,’ he asks.
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see,’ I tell him.
Neither of us can sleep in our prison. As far as we are concerned, the banging and strange mechanical noises throughout the day are a major inconvenience. Karen comes into the room occasionally to give us more food or water, and then leaves again. Only when the weak sunlight departs for the day, does the noise stop.
We are confined to the back room in discomfort and misery for many days as the big human workers bang and knock. When at last, quiet is restored, Karen opens the door to allow us into the house, and to our horror and utter disgust, we find that part of the wall near the bedrooms no longer exists. Instead, heaps of dust and wires cover the floor.
I ask myself, why they are destroying our house? It was fine before. It must have something to do with the kitten baby in Karen’s tummy. They want more space for it, but I can’t see why. Our house is enormous already, and they want even more space! Anyway, why should we worry. The bigger the house the more territory we have.
‘Cats, keep away from the mess. It’s dangerous,’ Tony warns.
Of course Oliver doesn’t listen, he snoops amongst the rubble on the floor, and soon he is covered in fine dust.
As Tony brushes him, he says, ‘A bath for you if I can’t get rid of the dust.’
Oliver’s eyes grow wide, but since playing in the snow, wetness is not as terrifying as it once was. Tony manages to clear the dust from his fur with a fine comb and a wet rub down. Oliver shivers, shakes himself, and then runs to the heat vent.
Karen asks Tony. ‘Do you think the room will be big enough for the baby?’
So, I was correct. They are making a new room for the baby in Karen’s tummy.when it comes out,’ I tell Oliver.
Karen is not working while the knocking and banging is happening, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a holiday for me. I am stuck in the back room with Oliver.
He is virtually an adult, but still very active and irrit
ating at times. Being in his company for long periods has given me an opportunity to observe him closely. I am certain that the difference between us goes well beyond our age and what Tony calls our breeding. Two cats couldn’t look or act less alike, and we speak our wonderful Cat Language in distinctly different ways. We talk virtual Cat Dialects. His voice is louder and sharper than mine, and he talks much more. Actually, he can be a pest, talking and complaining all the time. With all of that, I have to admit that he is exceedingly affectionate. Oliver is decidedly more athletic, and gets up to all sorts of tricks that I would not dream of trying. He is Cat Smart too, in almost Human ways that surprise me. He is logical and can calculate how deep a bucket is, and the distance and height of things far faster than I can. Helping, and caring is my main skill.
He is a one person cat, and that person is Tony. He is fiercely loyal to Tony, and adores him. When Tony comes home, Oliver is waiting for him, tail quivering. He is affectionate towards me too, rubbing against me, talking to me, and bopping his head against mine. He does everything in extremes. I am more placid and less temperamental. Thank Cats Above for that!
Rat’s Poo! Tony has even trained him to shake paws like a dog!
After a brief break, the huge human workers are back and we are locked up again. Oliver is tense and restless in the small room. When he thrashes his long tail, I recognise signs of his frustration. He wants to run and play, and he becomes a nuisance when he bites my tail or my ear for fun. I give him a sharp slap for that. He has pulled out each tissue from a box, torn the curtain in places, and he is now ripping up the carpet.
He is sending Tony a message, but Tony will pretend he doesn’t see it. Oliver can do no wrong, since he won the ribbon at the cat show. I wonder what he will get up to next.
Oliver notices a small mouse dart across the carpet and hide behind the bookcase. A few mice creep into the house through the kitchen door when Karen forgets to close it. I leave it for Oliver to hunt. If he is occupied chasing it, I will have some peace. He sits motionless next to the bookcase and waits. Then we hear it scratching the wood. Oliver is patient, and when a tiny head peeps out, he doesn’t move, so as not to alert it. As it edges out further, he stalks it. At last he pounces on the mouse, and has it in his claws. Then a big surprise! He throws it up into the air, catches it, and brings it to me as a gift. I am not hungry and don’t fancy the mouse, but I thank him. The creature is dead by now, and we leave it on the floor for Karen to throw away. After catching the mouse he is tired, and goes to sleep.
Bella Page 16
