George makes an incredible amount of noise, and his crying interferes with our sleep. His constant Wha Wha Whaaaa is not at all pleasing to sensitive feline ears. He pees and poos an incredible amount, so that Karen has to clean and change him often.
I hope he grows soon. Then he will be more independent and Karen will have more Cat Time.
Tonight, cool spring winds blow, and rain splatters on the roof like rat droppings. Oliver sniffles and has itchy ears.
‘Cats can have hay fever just like humans,’ Karen says to Tony, as she strokes Oliver sympathetically.
I shiver and my throat feels sore and blocked. My coughing annoys Oliver. When, to his disgust, he watches me vomiting blobs on the carpet, he is horrified and finds the smell offensive. With his fine, silky coat he has no fur build up with seasonal changes.
For me with my heavier coat, vomiting dead fur is a relief.
In the morning, Karen sees the vomit and mutters about fur balls, but she is not angry if I mess. She cleans it up and sprays the carpet with disinfectant.
‘You are moulting with the spring weather. I know you don’t vomit on purpose, Treasure,’ she says. ‘I will brush your coat when I have a free moment.’
She checks on George. ‘Oh no, George,’ I hear her say. ‘You have vomited too...and all over your blanket. It’s one of those mornings.’
Sunlight is everywhere today, as we run into our garden. Honey is enjoying the warmer weather, and standing at the fence waiting for us. She barks and wags her tail at me first, and then at Oliver. She is pleased to see us and wants to play. Karen hears the barking and leaves George, to open the fence gate.
‘Play nicely,’ she says.
Honey races through the gate. I watch her try to chase Oliver, but he is too fast for her. She whines in exasperation. Then I play with her, and pretend to be slower than her. Just when she thinks she has caught up with me, I climb the half-tree. We taunt her until she runs home through the gate. We play together, pouncing, stalking and chasing each other until we drop onto the grass, exhausted. Then we catch up to rub against each other affectionately.
Karen carries George into the television room and sits on the couch with him. We sit together on a comfortable chair, listening and watching, as she talks to him, cuddles, and smiles at him. He has a box filled with toys in different shapes and colours. She chooses a colourful toy and shakes it until he smiles at the movement and noise. Then she tickles him until he makes strange bubbling noises.
Happy Cats! I am pleased for Karen. She is enjoying being a mama, and she adores George.
He is much like a kitten in the way he likes cuddles and tickles. I like watching his small, fat legs kick, and his hands try to grasp things that are not there. He must be doing baby exercises to make his body stronger.
Karen feeds George from her body as my mama fed me. Whenever he cries for food, she feeds him. Once he is satisfied, his eyes close and she puts him to sleep in his little bed. He sleeps even more than I do. She goes to him if he wakes and cries. She tries hard not to let him become distressed. She is a loving mama.
I have to admit to myself that I am jealous of the attention she gives George. I tell myself I am a fortunate adopted cat, and that I must remember that George comes from Karen’s body. She is his real mother, and he must be her first love. It is her love that will protect him as he grows. It is from her he will learn about Humanness.
What will George be like when he is bigger? In the same way as cats, Humans take after members of their family, I hope George has Karen’s temperament. If he is like Liz, we will have to keep out of his way. In a while, we will find out.
Babies cry when hungry, sleep a lot, and suck food from their mamas like kittens, but kittens are stronger and grow up fast. By the time they are five weeks old, they are almost independent. They can walk and keep warm without their mamas. Soon they begin to eat solid food and drink water. With so many threatening predators about, kittens have to be on their feet early and care for themselves. Even with our smaller size and shorter lives, I would rather be a cat. Humans are such needy creatures.
Tony has changed dramatically. The first change came when Oliver arrived. Now that George is here, he is almost another Human – more patient and gentler. He smiles and laughs a lot. He adores George, even rocks him to sleep and sings to him. I like him more now.
George is asleep and Karen has time for us. She calls me. I am her cat, so I have first choice of a place on her lap, while Oliver puts his head on her thigh. She strokes us both and we feel loved. Then Oliver has a turn of sitting on her lap. I listen to his contented purr, as she cuddles and strokes him.
He is her cat too and deserves affection, but not too much.
It is early morning. The birds are singing, and pink light streams through the window. While George is still asleep, Karen is in the kitchen. She places sandwiches, cakes and biscuits on the big table.
Fat, Rats! Visitors will be coming...again!
The doorbell rings and human mothers pour into our house. Some have brought their babies with them – big and smaller ones. Predictably, we are locked away in the back room, listening to the sounds of babies crying and mothers talking. The sound of so many Humans and their babies invading our house is overwhelming! The noise continues for a few hours. After they all leave the human smell pervades the house and a pile of gifts for George is on the little table.
Thank Cats! Karen opens the windows, cleans and tidies. We then mark the furniture and carpets, restoring our territory.
What a job, but the house is ours again!
Though Karen cleans George many times during the day, he has a bath every night. This is obviously a human ritual, and I am relieved that Karen only forces me into the laundry tub every few months. Unlike me, George enjoys his bath. There are soft ducks in his bath and he plays with them floating in the water.
I think of my friend the duck and wonder if he will come back to play with me. If Oliver attacks him, it may not be such a good idea.
George is a happy baby, who cries only if he is hungry, tired, or needs to be changed. After his bath, he smells of soap, white flowery powder, and is pink all over. Karen kisses his fat tummy, plays with his toes and tiny fingers, and kisses them one by one. She makes bubble sounds for him and he laughs.
She changes his clothes many times due to the messes he makes. He creates a lot of work for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Some days I watch her comb his hair and choose his tiny clothes to dress him. She says she enjoys him looking “handsome” and “well-dressed.”
Everyone’s attention is focussed on George. He is lifting his head and smiling at Karen now, and everyone comments that he is becoming stronger. He notices Oliver, and me too. His tiny hands reach out towards us and he makes strange noises. Watching this small Human grow is intriguing.
While Oliver is in the garden playing, Karen calls me. She puts George on his blanket on the carpet and allows me to sniff him, and sit near him. He is not like a kitten any longer. Close to him, I smell his skin and listen to the sounds of his rhythmic breathing. Now his breaths come slower than they did when he was a tiny baby.
Karen trusts me with him, as I lie close to him and purr. I like this little creature. Then she calls Oliver, and he approaches George slowly. He smells him and purrs too. Now George has a cat on each side of him, and he looks happy.
Liz and Pops visit often. As grandparents, they both want to see George. They play with him, hold him, and kiss him all over. They smile when they are with him, and are happy just watching him.
Liz buys George gifts of toys and clothing. Karen is pleased and thanks her, but I sense subtle vibrations of tension between Karen and her mother.
Today Liz looks concerned.
‘You have a baby...and two cats. I know you won’t like what I say. Cats can be dangerous around small children... and they can pass on diseases.’
‘Tony and I are extremely careful,’ Karen replies. We love George and our cats. Tony chan
ges and cleans their litterboxes and washes his hands thoroughly afterwards.’ Liz purses her lips disapprovingly.
‘We watch the cats when they are with George, so try not to worry about it. Anyway, gentle animals are good for a baby.’
‘I belong to the old school. No dogs or cats near young children.’
Karen’s relief when her mother leaves is obvious. Her relationship with Pops is more open and friendly. He is besotted with “Georgie”, as he calls him.
Pops tickles George’s tummy and then lifts him up high. George chuckles with joy, wanting more...and more.
After playing with George, Pops finds us.
‘Bella, remember me telling you how I longed for a grandchild. Now that he is here my life is so full and happy.’
I butt his head affectionately and purr.
He smiles. ‘I made a special gift for the two of you. I know it isn’t much fun right now with Tony at work and Karen so involved with the baby.’
We wait for the special gift while he goes outside to collect it. He carries in a large, complex wooden concoction with tunnels and climbing platforms.
Cat’s Delight! We can barely wait until it is on the floor to play on it. Just as well it is strong and can take our weight. Pops is thrilled to see us both having fun. He laughs as he watches Oliver jump up to the tallest platform.
‘When George is older, and Bella is working with Karen again, I will enter you, Oliver, in another cat show. You are a handsome cat, and I’m sure that this time you will win the top neutered adult category.’
Oliver’s tail drops and he runs under the table to hide.
George is growing fast. He has dark hair like Karen’s and a nose like Tony’s. His eyes seem to be turning brown. He smiles at me, laughs, and says Coo Coo. I like him more each day. His little limbs are stronger now, and he moves on the floor. Karen says he is crawling. He is still almost like a little animal, but I expect he will try to stand soon. Now that he is bigger, I rub my head against his tiny hand and he reaches out to touch me.
During the day, we run through the entire house as we once did. Life has almost returned to the pleasant routine before he arrived. Karen has stopped feeding him, and he is eating mushy food from bottles.
Meeyuk! His food smells awful. A kitten wouldn’t touch it!
Karen hasn’t started working yet, but I can tell that she is bored. She paces and looks for things to do when George is asleep. She cleans, bakes cakes and biscuits, or cooks Tony special meals. Cooking and cleaning did not interest her at all while she was working.
This afternoon, Karen takes George with her to visit a friend, and we are alone in the house. Oliver has “itchy paws” again. He cannot resist trying to open the big door in the television room. He has the length and strength to reach all the lower knobs and handles in the house, and can open doors and cupboards. After several tries, he is able to reach the doorknob in the television room, but he will have to practice a lot before he can open it.
He is smart, and strong, but his rebelliousness and risk taking concerns me.
The half-tree is covered in new leaves and the flowers in our garden are attracting bees and butterflies. I have learned that bees are to be avoided. They seem to particularly enjoy stinging cat’s noses and ears. Butterflies are fun to stalk and catch.
Oliver is chasing me around the garden, when I hear a familiar whirring sound. I stop to look up. Two dark blobs are hovering above us. A surge of excitement throbs within me. The duck is back, and with a friend. They land on our fence and watch us.
My thrill is mixed with concern. Will Oliver consider them prey and stalk them?
I don’t have long to wait to find out. He is preparing to attack them.
Meooooow...ow!
‘No Oliver! They are ducks.my friends.’
Thank Cats Above! He is displeased, but retreats to observe them.
Quark, quark they say in unison.
Meow, meow I reply.
I recognise the markings of my old friend as it flies towards me, teasing me. I run after it chasing it behind the rocks. Then it is high up on the half-tree. I climb the tree but it is too fast for me. While Oliver watches us play, the second duck flies behind him and tweaks his ear. Oliver turns, but the duck is above him, tempting him to follow and play. Soon we are both playing with the ducks and having fun.
Karen has returned and is watching us play.
She laughs loudly. ‘So, your duck friend is back with a pal for Oliver. You are both hilarious!’
Oliver has been practicing reaching the doorknob in the television room each night. This afternoon while Karen is out again, he runs to the big door and after several attempts at turning it, gives a loud, meoooow of success. The door is open.
He races through the house. As hard as I try to resist the temptation, I follow. We run back and forth until we are tired. Then we return to the back of the house. We cannot close the door, and wait worriedly for Karen’s return.
‘I was in such a hurry to go out, and with so much to do for George, that I must’ve forgotten to close the door,’ she says. ‘You’re such good cats for staying on this side of the house.’
I look at Oliver, and then turn away.
The moon is full tonight. Oliver and I sit at the window. Our senses are sharp. We listen to the creatures of the night and enjoy the delicate perfumes of flowers.
Oliver is restless. ‘I wish I could go out,’ he says.
‘Calm down,’ I reply and flick him with my tail.
He glares at me with eyes that have a red glow at night.
Neutering has calmed him, but it has not changed him. I hope that he is not considering running away again.
In frustration, he claws at the gift Pops built for us. I pretend not to notice.
‘For fun I’m going to open the big door to the bedrooms. I need to run around. They are asleep and won’t hear me.’
His eyes shine mischievously, as his long, powerful body stretches to the doorknob. I hear him turn the knob, and then the pulse of him running.
This time, I do not follow him. In his present mood he could cause big trouble.
I drift off to sleep. When I feel him shaking me, I wake with a start.
‘You have to come...quickly! Something is the matter with George,’ he says, sounding panicky.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Hurry! Karen and Tony are asleep...and I don’t know what to do.’
We race to George’s room. His door is open. I stand next to his little bed and listen. George is making gasping noises. I jump onto his bed, and listen more closely. I have heard him breathing many times. His breaths usually come rhythmically, but now he is struggling to breathe.
Major Cat Alarm! ‘I am going to wake them,’ I tell Oliver. In seconds, I leap onto the big bed. First I jump on Karen and then on Tony, attempting to rouse them.
Meeeoooow, Meeeoooow I call.
‘I want to sleep.leave me alone,’ Karen says.
I stamp on her, and then take the sheet in my mouth and pull it from her.
‘What’s up Bella?’ She says sleepily.
Cat Emergency! Hurry up Karen, or Georgie will pass over the rainbow!
By now, Karen is sitting up.
I jump up onto the bed and slap Karen’s face with my paw. Then I run towards George’s room calling all the time. She follows me.
‘To...nee! Come quickly, George is very pale and struggling to breathe. Call the ambulance,’ she shouts.
Tony looks at George, and picks up the phone. Soon there is a horrific wailing noise. A huge white van pulls up. Two Humans run into the house. At first, they are in the room with George, and then they carry him to the van. We hear the loud wailing sound again, as they drive away. Karen and Tony dress in a hurry. They leave as well.
Oliver and I wait through the night and most of the next day. At last, we hear Karen’s car in the driveway. She rushes into the kitchen to give us food and water, and change our litterboxes. Then she runs to the b
edroom. She has a quick shower, dresses and is gone again. Tony arrives a few hours later. He has a shower, changes his clothes and leaves.
We sleep and wait.
Karen and Tony are away for another night and a day. When they return they are exhausted, but look relieved. They stand in the television room, hug each other, and cry.
‘Georgie will be fine...just a few more days in hospital,’ Tony says to Karen reassuringly.
Thank Cats Above! George will recover and grow to be a big and strong Human. He survived, so he has the Human equivalent of Catness – Humanness.
Karen wipes away tears and kisses Tony. ‘I don’t know what would’ve happened if Bella...and Oliver..’
‘Where are the cats?’ Tony asks.
We run towards them, and greet them with loud purrs.
Tony wipes tears from his eyes with his sleeve.
‘If Oliver hadn’t learned to open the big door...and hadn’t realised George wasn’t well.I don’t want to think what could’ve happened. It was Bella, who knew he was having trouble breathing and woke us. Our cats are incredible. amazing!’ He bends to stroke Oliver and then me. ‘I doubt either of you understand what I am saying, but you two saved George’s life by alerting us.’
Karen and Tony sit on the couch and we jump onto their laps. It is a glorious love fest, followed by tins of prawns for us...and nibbles of dried beef.
Happy, Happy Cats! George is home in two days. At first, he is in his bed, and he sleeps most of the time. Later, his doctor says he can be up for a short while and play. We are both pleased to have him back with us.
Life is perfect in Catland.
The sunlit mornings are warm, fallen blossoms cover the ground in our garden forming a carpet of luscious, pink softness.
George is walking and beginning to talk. ‘Bell’ he calls me, and ‘Ol’ is for Oliver.
Catland couldn’t be a happier place.
‘Bella, it’s time we started work again,’ Karen says, giving my head a loving pat. ‘Jenny will look after George, while we are busy in the therapy room. We’ll start work tomorrow morning, Precious.’
Bella Page 18
