Moving for the First Time

I have to admit that I didn’t want to have anything to do with my girl when we had first met. The moment I saw her, I knew she was a whirlwind. So, I kept running away from her. She kept coming back and talking to the blind guy. Before I realized what was happening, she was cleaning up our water and food bowls and filling them up! I knew it was her. I could smell her.

Then my brother told me how kind and gentle she was. He was lonely once when she had walked past him. He had begged her to pet him. I wasn’t so brave as to ask someone I didn’t know to pet me. She petted him and he loved her for it. He couldn’t stop talking about her and telling me how wonderful she was.

I do have manners. I know I’m a curmudgeon, but I still have manners. So, I thanked her for taking care of our food and water bowls. I had no idea then how important she would become to me. It was simply a matter of time. Things were set. But tragedy stuck. First my brother died. The blind guy suspected someone had given my brother poison.

He was much too young. I miss him so much. He was my constant companion from birth. It just wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have died then. But he did.

But that wasn’t the end of the tragedies. The blind guy went and fell in love with my girl’s mother and then he went away. I found myself all alone at the house. But my girl came and looked after me. I was hoping she would just move in with me and we could live happily ever after. I was thinking and dreaming about how it would be with her. It was at that point that I knew she would take good care of me and would be the best caregiver and caretaker I could ever ask for.

But that’s not how it went. I remember she had asked me if I wanted to live with her. I had told her of course. But I thought she was going to move in with me. I didn’t find out my error until a few days later. She and some guy friend of hers came. I refused to leave my only home. Really, it wasn’t fair at all. They should have understood that.

Before I had realized what had happened, I was trapped in a room with no way out. The guy talked to me and had me cornered. I didn’t know what to do. My girl was in the room too, but she was distant and quiet. The guy stuffed me into a box and he carried me out. He put me into a car and both of them came along. Then we went for a ride.

I hate to travel unless I’m the one moving. No cars for me. No putting me into boxes. I absolutely hate it. I had been tricked! It was one of the worst moments of my life. No one seemed to care how upsetting this was for me. I really had thought she was going to move in with me. But no.

They both had a hard time catching me. I had lived there my entire life. I was born in the backyard. Didn’t they care about that? Probably not. They were just trying to catch me!

I was tricked. How dare they! I am a cat and this was an injustice. So, I complained the whole trip. I only got quiet after I had found myself in a strange place. As soon as I was released from the cage, I quickly found a place to hide. That was the only thing I could do. I hid in the closet surrounded by her clothes. They smelled of her.

So, for a long time I was quiet. I didn’t know what else was going to happen. I don’t even know how long I hid in the closet. I just knew that they both had left me alone in a strange place. She was the only one who came back later. She called me.

I slowly and cautiously came out and looked around at the new place. I didn’t know what to think. She was kind and encouraging to me. She showed me the litter box. She picked me up and set me down quickly and gently in it. I didn’t need to use it then, so I stepped out of it. She had picked me up— I hate to be picked up! She pointed out my food and water bowls.

She was gentle with me. But I hate to be picked up! She did learn that eventually, but she still did it. *Sigh.* Don’t get me wrong. I love my girl unconditionally, but sometimes she does things I don’t like. And that was just one of them.

So she had at least thought that far ahead to provide me with a litter box. It didn’t take me long to learn that she wasn’t going to let me outside. I asked her often, but she refused to open the door for me. I was trapped inside with her! This new place was still strange and much smaller than my first home.

At least the guy who had caught me wasn’t here. And if he came by to visit, I always hid from him. I never wanted to have anything more to do with him. So, you can imagine my shock when I learned he funded my online magazine. Ugh… I still don’t like him, but I thank him for the support. My girl tells me he likes cats. Perhaps he does. But I still don’t like him because he had tricked me.

June 1, 2019 0

Cats & Hunting

As a cat, I know about hunting. I used to do it. That was when I was young and could take care of myself without any trouble. As I got older, I tended to lose some teeth and my claws became brittle. Once my girl clipped my back claws and they weren’t clean breaks. I told her never to do it again.

She didn’t after that. She did try to say it was the ultimate in cat pampering. But after I told her not to do it anymore, I think she understood there was something wrong with my claws.

Well, I liked to hunt. It was my way to assert my independence of humans. I never had any trouble catching mice and eating them. Humans tended to find it disgusting that I would eat mice. I don’t know what their problem is. Those humans eat animals too. My girl doesn’t eat animals and she understood whenever I ate a mouse.

Or even a bird. She didn’t like the gifts I left her, but she is a vegetarian. At least she understands that I need to eat animals. I don’t think she needs to. In fact, she seems to think it will make her sick if she were to eat them.

So, I’ve had lots of mice in my time. And a few birds. There was one bird who got angry with me for eating a couple of birds. If my girl wasn’t around, I don’t know what I would have done. She rescued me from getting pecked.

*Sigh.* I no longer hunt because I cannot. I sometimes miss it, but I’m so well taken care of now that I am okay without it. I feel blessed that a vegetarian understands and knows what I need to stay healthy and that’s what she gives me. So, I’ve learned to live without it and just pretend on occasion that I’m hunting and stalking prey when in reality I’m off to my food bowl my girl has filled up. She finds the scenes I make quite amusing.

May 1, 2019 0

Losing Part of My Right Ear

It seemed to take forever to become an adult. But it was worth it. I was quite the cat before I had met my girl. I could come and go as I pleased. In an out of a house. I didn’t have a litter box. Whenever I needed to relieve myself, I went outside and buried it all. It was better than having a litter box. I didn’t have to worry if someone was going to clean up after me. I had already taken care of that part.

Life was good as far as I was concerned. My brother Spitter was still alive and we would get into a few fights here and there. It’s what brothers and cats do. We never hurt each other. We just had arguments and disagreements. But we always made up afterwards. It wasn’t a bad house. The backyard with the woodpile was even better unless another cat came along who shouldn’t have been there.

Then, well, there’d be a fight for the territory. Spitter and I were here before the strange cats were. So, we defended our turf. Sometimes the fights got bad. This was the way it was where I’m from. Sometimes I ran into dogs when I was out and about. I don’t like dogs. Some are just plain mean. And the ones who aren’t mean, well, I still don’t want to have anything to do with them. My girl thinks I’m a bit prejudice against dogs, but she never blamed me for it. I think she understood why I feel the way I do about dogs.
I never thought anything of the fighting when it was happening. It was the way life was for me. Why question it? As long as the status quo wasn’t getting challenged, I had no reason to think about anything changing. Well, people still came and went out of the house, that didn’t change. The blind guy was the only constant human.

I’m sure if you look at my pictures, you’ll see it’s obvious that I’ve been in a few bad fights. Not with my brother, but other cats. We fought over territory. One fight was so bad, I lost part of my right ear. Look closely and you’ll see it’s notched. It was whole when I was a kitten.

But I didn’t stay a kitten for long. I grew up fast and became quite the cat. I didn’t approach strange humans. Who knew if they all could be trusted. Some were plain mean and had no qualms about torturing cats. Best to avoid all unknown humans altogether and just stick with the few who can be trusted. It’s been my way and it works for me.

So, there’s the story of my ear. I never grew it back. I never told my girl how it happened. But I remember what happened to my ear…

Of course it was a territorial dispute. These things happen where I’m from and when cats are allowed to go outside. If you’re an indoor cat, you don’t need to worry about it as much. Unless the human who’s taking care of you decides to bring home another cat or even more. Then you have to establish order pretty quickly. I was lucky with my girl. She was smart enough to stay out of it. She let us figure it out on our own when she had brought home another cat.

Not that we would have given her much of a choice about the matter. She would have to live with us and the order we established. She is a smart one. Even when she had caught me arguing with another cat she didn’t know, she knew to stay out of it. It’s just one of the many reasons why I love her so much.

So, it was a territorial dispute. We argued and couldn’t reach any kind of agreement. Things escalated. I wasn’t about to back down. This was my home. It was the only home I had ever known. This newcomer had to understand that. But he didn’t care. He wanted to be the alpha cat.

So we duked it out. We screamed. We wrestled. Tousled and raved. We threw punches. We used our claws. We used our teeth. Still the fight went on. Perhaps I don’t remember all the details clearly now. I am an old cat, what did you expect from me? A perfect and clear memory of every little event in my life? That cat did bite my ear. I didn’t realize how bad it was until long after he had gone.

I don’t even know now who won that fight. But I can tell you it was that fight that cost me a piece of my right ear. It’s obvious in the pictures my girl took of me. It just took that one time. It wasn’t the only fight I had been in. But it certainly was the most memorable one.

She never mentioned the loss of part of my right ear to me. She just loved me and took care of me. For that, I can’t complain. She was a good learner. I had to tell her everything. She had never taken care of a cat before me. It was much more than filling up my water and food bowls. If she wasn’t so willing to learn, I think I would have died from embarrassment.

But she was great. She has improved over time. She was good for me in more ways than I have been willing to admit. She was such a whirlwind that assured me I never had to fight like that after we lived together.

May 1, 2019 0

Cats & Fairies

*Sigh.* When I first met fairies, those tiny glowing humanoids with wings, I was just a kitten. I had no idea who or what they were. They played with me. They teased me. They told me I was going to be a witch’s familiar.

I had no idea what was going on at the time. I didn’t understand until much later. After I had met the witch herself. Needless to say, it took me time to get used to the fairies and the witch.

Now I think nothing of such things. Neither the fairies nor the witch have ever harmed me. They have all annoyed me at one time or another. I’m used to them and their playful ways.

*Sigh.* If they are gone from me for too long, I miss them too much.

April 1, 2019 0

Spitter

My brother Spitter was a great companion. We didn’t always get along, but can you show me a pair of brothers who always get along well? No, of course not. He was great to hang out with. We used to lie around and watch the humans who came in and out of the house. We could cuddle up to one another. We could complain to each other about whatever was wrong with our lives. We could also complain about our mother and why she had abandoned us. We could even meditate together.

I wasn’t lonely with my brother around. Never mind how whiny we were at times. We loved each other. We wrestled together. We had our little disagreements, but we always made up afterwards. I still miss him sometimes. My girl understands this. She once told me if Spitter was still alive that she would have taken him in too. For once a non-cat understood how upset I was about his disappearance. Or rather his death.

I don’t know why he died. But he was much too young. Rumor has it he was poisoned. It has never been confirmed with actual proof. But he was my brother and my best friend. I could never replace him. I am still tempted to hunt down the responsible party for my brother’s disappearance. But I would have no idea where to even look. It’s been much too long now. The evidence has been destroyed. That’s all I can be sure of now.

I have meditated on Spitter’s disappearance/death. I have come to the conclusion that when we cats die, we tend to disappear from the people we have known. I didn’t find him after he was gone. I know the blind guy would have at least found his body. That’s all we can leave behind when we leave. It is a leaving as far as I’m able to understand.

I’m not sure our essence of who we are really disappears. I think that’s the part that lives on and we travel to somewhere else. It seems that death is the release of our essence from our physical body. Physical bodies do wear out as I can tell you. Mine has worn out. That’s part of the reason I’m writing my memoirs now. It’s easier without all the restrictions I once had.

My girl and I never talked about death per se. She did tend to meditate at times. So, I couldn’t tell you what she thinks of death. But I can tell you she is somewhat sensitive to those who no longer have physical bodies. She can sense them, but that’s about it. She doesn’t try to talk to them. I know now that she’s had to deal with death at an early age. Dead bodies creep her out. Sometimes she dreams of the dead she once knew when they had physical bodies.

She doesn’t tend to talk too much about those dreams. Well, I think she does talk about the ones she has about her son. Those are pleasant for her. They are aware of their physical separation, yet he can contact her every so often via a dream to let her know she’s not really alone. Her aloneness is just a physical illusion. That’s something we all need to remember.

*Sigh.* There was no one else in my life quite like Spitter. We had so much in common that I wonder how I ever ended up with such a silly girl. I wasn’t silly with her. She likes to play too much. She has encouraged me to play. But she never gave me a hard time for not playing with toys. She just accepted me as I truly am. For the curmudgeon that I am.

Spitter understood about being a curmudgeon. He was just as whiny as I was about lots of things. He used to get lonely as I did. He was the one who had asked my girl to pet him. I wasn’t that brave to ask someone I didn’t know. I didn’t ask her until after we had lived together. I didn’t always have to ask her. She likes to pet me.

She at least understood why I missed my brother as much as I did. She assured me that if he had lived, that he would have been with us. That was enough for me. I couldn’t ask for more in a caretaker and caregiver. Even one who is a whirlwind…

April 1, 2019 0

My Memoirs

Currently available at Smashwords: The Life Adventures of Sir Socks Le Chat

Finally. After all the dictation and translation and editing…cover design and the book layout into ebook format, my girl and I have finished my book of memoirs. She put it up for sale on Smashwords earlier this week. They have approved it to be distributed to other retailers. In a matter of days, perhaps as long as a week, my book will be available just about anywhere ebooks are sold.

I’m now a very happy cat. I can relax. I’ve written my thoughts on my life. Perhaps I can earn a bit of money for myself and my girl. She is wonderful if a bit too silly at times. She does know me better than any other non-cat person ever has. I’m glad she is a big part of my life. She deserves recognition for what she has done for me over my life. She may not agree with me. I know she is glad I am a part of her life too.

Of course my memoirs will continue to be serialized here online. But if you can’t wait every month for another installment, then feel free to download a copy of my finished book for US$2.99. Happy reading while I take a well deserved long nap.

March 16, 2019 0

My Mother

What is there to say about my mother Ramadom? She cared for my three brothers and me when we were kittens. Then without any warning, she left us on our own. I don’t understand. I thought she loved us. But she wouldn’t stay with us. It was abandonment. After I’ve lived as long as I have, I still don’t understand.

She didn’t even say goodbye. She just left and never came back to look after us. How could she to that to us? Then we discovered her living across the street. We lived near the end of a cul-de-sac. Whenever Spitter and I saw her, we hissed at her to let her know how much we were upset by her abandonment of us.

She should have said something. Anything would have been better than her just leaving without any warning. Oh, just thinking about her makes me so mad. Why couldn’t she have given us warning that she would be leaving us on our own? That’s the part I don’t get. She just left us behind in the woodpile.

I’ve been picking up the pieces since she left. I suppose it’s time to let go of this pain, but it’s hard. I guess I want to make sense out of everything. Yet, I can’t. Is this how life truly is? Things go well for just a short time and then tragedy strikes without any warning.

Perhaps it’s just me. But I wish my mother had never left us as she did. I would have been much happier with her if she had told us it was time for us to be on our own. Then we could have visited her from time to time. Instead, she just left and never cared what became of us after she was done taking care of us.

I suppose it’s normal for us cats to let kittens grow up and go on their own when they no longer need someone else to look after them. But it doesn’t always happen that way. We do grow up and become more independent, but we can also maintain relationships with our mothers when we’re older. Isn’t that what humans do?

I did talk to my girl about a lot of different things that bothered me. But we never talked about my mother Ramadom. I don’t know why. I guess we were more focused on living together and getting along. My girl knew I didn’t like my mother. My girl may not have known or understood why. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s starting to understand now. She is quite clever and sees the world in an unusual way than others I have known in my life. I admit that I don’t always understand some things she tells me because she says them in a unique way. I do hope she has gained wisdom as I’m sure I have.

I just don’t know if I will ever be able to understand. I do like my independence, but does that mean I have to give up having a relationship with my own mother too? That’s not a good choice to have to make. Well, technically she made it for me. I had no choice in the matter.

I still wish things with my mother could have been different. I loved her as a kitten. I still love her now, even though she refused to have anything to do with me after I grew up. It would have been great if Spitter and I could have visited her from time to time and just had some good chats. She would have been a friend who lived in the same neighborhood.

Am I asking for too much from her?

She was sweet. She was loving. She was beautiful. She was there from before we were born. She took good care of us. She taught us how to be good upstanding cats. Then she was gone without any warning. Why? Why? Why?

She could have kissed us goodbye and let us know it was time for us to be on our own. She could have told us she was going to her home across the street. So, why didn’t she tell us?

Why did she just leave and not ever come back? She didn’t even care whenever Spitter and I hissed at her. She just ignored us. She acted as if we were complete strangers not worth her notice. She never paid any attention to us after she had abandoned us.

That was that, I suppose. At least my girl took me in and never got rid of me. I would have preferred to stay in the same home for the rest of my life, but at least my girl never abandoned me. She took me in and that was that. She always took care of me better than my mother had. Some humans even called my girl my mother.

Well, she is my girl. Not my mother. My girl was better than my mother. I’m glad my girl came and met me when she did. That whirlwind changed my life forever and taught me love can last forever. Sometimes it doesn’t always last from your family for many reasons. But then you can find friends later on who will stand by you no matter what.

So, I was proud to have her as my girl. I never minded her calling me her cat. At least she understood she didn’t own me. Nor did she ever treat me as a piece of property. I am a person to her. I always was and always will be.

March 1, 2019 0

Cats Need Claws

In the middle of the night, Nuri lost her balance on the pillow she was resting on and fell. She landed on my girl. My girl was lying in bed resting and was of course startled by Nuri. My girl ended up with a few claw marks going down the length of her shoulder.

My girl did absolutely nothing to punish Nuri. And why would she punish any cat for an accident? My girl understands it was an accident. She has tended to her wounds and they’re healing up fine.

That accident reminded me of why we cats need our claws. All of them. And what we used them for. When we fall, whether we jump down or lose our *gasp* lose our balance, we extend our claws to use as anchors to break our fall. We do it to stop faster and reduce the chances that we will get hurt.

When we jump up on to things, we extend our claws to stop ourselves once we’ve reach our goal. If we are missing our claws, doesn’t matter why, we will slide and wonder why our claws aren’t helping us. If we slide too far, we can get injured. Cats can fall out of windows without screens. I’d hope we don’t break any bones or have anything worse happen.

We do use our claws for fighting and defense. We may play with them. However, when we play with humans, we usually learn to keep our claws retracted because we don’t want to hurt you. Of course if humans threaten us, we will bare our claws in self defense. Please treat us well and we will keep our claws sheathed.

Without our claws, we can have trouble burying our waste. We cats like to bury our waste and we do need our claws to dig in the dirt. I know some of us can get over zealous when burying in the litter box. Sorry about the mess, but we have to be thorough. We can’t leave a trace that we’ve been somewhere to our enemies. Can’t let them find us.

So, for those of you humans who think we shouldn’t have claws so we can’t tear up your furniture, why didn’t you think about us? You know you can give us our own scratching posts to tear up. Yes, we do need to sharpen our claws to keep them in good shape. We have more trouble being cats without our claws.

As my girl is fond of saying, “Cats come with sharp teeth and sharp claws, duh!” She understands we are people and not objects to be owned. And she is a crazy cat lady who thinks having at least one cat, if not more, is more preferable than having immaculate furniture and other things of material wealth.

And my girl also believes, based on knowledge and her own observations, that cats who have been declawed are mutilated. That’s just one of the reasons I love her so much. She just accepts us as we are and we can accept her as she is.

March 1, 2019 0

Cats and Shedding

Most cats are hairy. Yes, there are those cats who are hairless. Many people consider them ugly. So, if you decide to live with a cat, you will learn quickly that we shed a lot of hair. All the time. Especially during a season change. We have a light weight coat to keep us cool during the summer. And we can grow a thicker warmer coat to keep us warm during the winter.

I bet there are humans who wish their bodies could do the same…

So, because of the differences in the kinds of coats we can grow, we will shed hair all the time. Sometimes it’s not the weather causing us to grow a new coat. Sometimes it’s stress. Vets know this and never complain when they find lots of hair on the examination table after we’ve been there.

If you are human and can’t stand pet hair, why would you even consider living with one of us? We can’t help it. It’s so perfectly natural to us. We have to live with this everyday of our lives. And you want to complain?

Then clean it up. We can’t clean up our hair. Do you want us to have hairballs? No? Why would you? Then it will be more of a mess for you to clean up.

Okay, if you want to help reduce the clean up, you are welcome to get a decent brush and brush our beautiful coats. I have to say getting my coat brushed is wonderful. I’m just a short haired cat, but I can imagine for the longer haired cats, a brush could be a good thing too.

February 1, 2019 0

First Home

I grew up in a woodpile in a backyard. At that young age, I had no idea what life had in store for me. I didn’t see the adventures that would happen to me. All the traveling. And of course, the most wonderful caretaker and caregiver I ever had who helped me in my later years. I don’t think I could have handled being a senior cat without her.

This woodpile is where my brothers and I would play and learn how to become upstanding cats. Our mother cared for us as a mother should. She was kind and loving. She provided for our every need without any complaint. She was beautiful.

We were lucky to grow up there. Yes, we were outside, but we were in a human neighborhood. There were humans around and they helped take care of us. If the humans were mean and dangerous, I don’t know what would have happened to us. I have heard horror stories of other cats who just lived on the streets without a safe place to go in times of trouble.

But I know we were lucky. Two of my brothers, Inky and Paintbrush, were adopted by humans and we never saw them again. I do hope they were in good homes. Sometimes it’s just hard to tell with humans. But I know Spitter and I had a good home together.

It was just a shame that we, Spitter and I, were separated early, but that is another story.

I didn’t just learn to become an upstanding cat in this woodpile. I also learned to meditate as just a little kitten. My girl says of the only picture she’s seen of me as a kitten that I was cute and looked just like a miniature version of my adult self. She says I didn’t look much like kittens who have certain parts of their bodies grow bigger than the rest. I was just a miniature adult. I suppose I always had the mindset of a senior cat trapped inside a young cat’s body.

There were many humans who came and went to the house next to the woodpile. Some would live in the house. Many didn’t stay long for one reason or another. There was only one who stayed there the longest. He was the blind guy. He was kind and loved my brothers, my mother, and me well.

He never made us leave. He let us come and go as we pleased. He just made sure we had access to food and water. We didn’t have a litter box because we were outside cats. We never needed one. We learned from our mother how to deal with our waste and where to hide it so no one would complain.

The house wasn’t particularly very clean. There was a tv that was on much of the time. I never cared for tv and I certainly didn’t miss it when I lived with my girl. She doesn’t like tv and refuses to own one. She did have one for a time, but it wasn’t on as much as it was at my first home.

The blind guy tended to write poetry. I didn’t mind that. Sometimes I would hear him typing or he would speak the words out loud. It sounded like a stream of consciousness. It certainly wasn’t unpleasant to listen to him reciting his poetry and expressing himself.

It was a good first home with the woodpile and the house. I couldn’t have asked for better. It was in this home that I first met my girl. She was one of those who came and went. She never stayed overnight.

Even my brother Spitter had noticed her. She came and chatted with the blind guy and other humans. She was the one non-cat who checked our food and water bowls. She made sure we had what we needed. Her scent was left behind. That was how Spitter and I knew she was one of those crazy cat ladies.

She had earned our trust by taking care of our food and water and by letting us be. She never made us come or go. She gave us freedom and respect that we deserve as cats. But I still had no idea how important she would become to me or when it would happen.

But it was only a matter of time before this whirlwind would change things for us. She would even affect herself as well as me.

February 1, 2019 0