The Amazing Life of Cats (4 page)
Kewie was always at my side, normally slung across my left shoulder with her paws gently supported in my little hands. She could always find mischief, and the following year, on the night before my fifth birthday party, she discovered that we had thwarted her plans to misappropriate the birthday cakes, covering them with cloths. She decided to leave her mark anyway—and spent the night walking back and forth across them, leaving paw prints in her wake.
When we decided to move to Ireland four years later we talked about leaving Kewie behind but it was my mother who decided that you could move the contents of a house easily but that didn’t make it a home—so the cat came with us. She flew from Johannesburg to Amsterdam, with a brief stop-over for breakfast, and then finally on to London where she would spend the next six months in solitary confinement in quarantine. The huge expense of this mission did not impress my father one bit. But Kewie was a personality and soon became the ‘quarantine cat’, allowed to wander freely and sit with the workers.
Once her incarceration was over, Kewie was loaded into a truck and driven to Ireland, crossing on the ferry, a harrowing ordeal she would never forget. It was a huge moment of anticipation when we opened the cage door: it had been so long—would she still remember us? Out she came, as if nothing had changed, and greeted us like old friends reunited.
Not much had changed. Her favourite game still remained beating up surprised dogs—she would stand on her back legs and smack them across the face, leaving them completely bewildered. She still stole milk; when we rudely covered it, she quickly learned that if she knocked over the whole one-litre jug she could still lap the desired few sips from the table or the floor where it spilled. As she got older and dottier she started hunting ‘mice’, which were really just sycamore leaves with long tail-like stalks. She might bring in four or five a day, each held aloft and announced with great pride. And she always remained top cat: we often joked that she ruled the house and that we just lived in it.
Kewie lived out the rest of her years in bliss in Ireland, curled tightly on her favourite corner of the sofa, or tucked neatly among my toys on my bed; in winter she could be found comatose by the Aga cooker, and in summer basking in the sunlight under the hedge. Kewie lived to an amazing twenty-one years, showing tenacity to the last. I was away at the time when I heard that she was dying, and caught the first morning train home so I could say goodbye, but as my train pulled out of Dublin I was informed via an emotional phone call that she had gone peacefully to kitty heaven.
Later that day we buried her at the top of the garden near the warm spot by the wall, next to the vegetable garden. Each summer, colourful sweet peas bloom over her grave to remind us that she is still turning our house into a home.
Thank you, Kewie!
Lara Jones
Of all God’s creatures, there is only one
that cannot be made slave of the lash.
That one is the cat. If man could be
crossed with the cat it would improve
the man, but it would deteriorate the cat.
Mark Twain
M
y story dispels the myth that cats love places more than they love people. I have two cats who were found abandoned in a shed in Alice Springs not long after they were born. They were reared by hand—five feeds a day to start with—using a kangaroo teat, which reached further down their throats than the usual lambing ones.
Harry is now a very large ginger cat who stalks around his domain like a king surveying his subjects. At times he thinks he is a dog and I have to physically lock him in the house so he doesn’t follow when I walk our two dogs. Once he actually followed us to the park and I was terrified he would be attacked by a dog, even though I knew he could run and jump into a tree. Harry can jump really high: from the barbecue on our patio he could jump in one leap onto the roof. He looked like he was flying.
Sally is a rather nervous black and white cat. She doesn’t venture out much but is very affectionate to me and the other animals in the house. She is much smaller than Harry and doesn’t eat as much.
After selling our house in Alice Springs we moved to Perth. I flew down with the two dogs and two cats. I had rented a house online and I kept them all indoors for three days before letting them out. There were no problems. They soon adjusted to the new life, although Harry had to be taken to the vet twice due to his attempts to establish himself as ruler of the other cats in the area. He was triumphant but the experience was costly for me!
The lease on the house was only for six months. The owners wanted to do it up and sell it so I found another house in the area. Again the cats settled in fine after a few days indoors. Both houses had large gardens so they were happy. After two years my lease was up again and the owners also wanted to sell so I found a house in another area. Once more the cats settled in fine, although Harry did get stuck in the roof and I had to get the fire brigade to take a tile off the roof and let him out. He also had a couple of visits to the vet as I had come to expect.
I had put my name down for a government-funded house when I came to Perth and at last, after nearly four years’ wait, one became available. It was a small one-bedroom place with a much smaller garden than they were used to but they settled in and adapted to the lack of space with no fuss. In fact, Harry shot past me and out of the front door while I was busy unpacking. I didn’t have time to run after him but looked up a little while later to see him walking past the screen door glancing in to see if I was sufficiently concerned to chase after him. Smiling to myself, I resisted the urge and a few minutes later he walked back the other way. I relented and opened the fly screen and he haughtily strode back into the house.
The house brought us all closer together because it was harder to get away from each other. Sometimes I ended up with all four of them on the bed. At first the cats used to taunt the dogs to chase them in the middle of the night by miaowing and running off. If that didn’t work, Harry would open and shut the kitchen cupboards with a bang—another of his extraordinary talents—or knock things off tables. Sally proved expert at being chased. She was so fast she would appear at one door while the dogs were still looking for her in another room.
The vet showed me how to pull the scabs off Harry after he had been in a fight, which saved a lot of money. He protested at first but now puts up with it, if reluctantly.
You can tell when Harry is in the mood for mischief because he stalks around the bathroom and pulls the towels off the rails and ‘kills’ them. He does the same with toilet rolls. He and Sally still squabble occasionally but it is impossible to tell who started it so I let them get on with it.
Sally’s latest pleasure is to hide behind the shower curtain and launch herself at me when I am sitting on the toilet. She stands on her back feet and puts her front paws on my shoulder. The shower curtain is full of claw marks. She also likes to nestle into one or other of the dogs; they’re not too sure about it but don’t dare snap at her when I am looking.
All things considered we are very happy in our little unit. I was amazed at how adaptable all the animals were, especially the cats. If I had heeded the warnings of people who thought I should not take the cats with me when I moved, I would have missed out on some of the greatest moments and pleasures of my life.
Sue Sturman
I called my cat William because no
shorter name fits the dignity of his
character. Poor old man, he has fits now,
so I call him Fitz-William.
Josh Billings
H
uman beings are large, clumsy animals that make a lot of noise and have extremely poor night vision. However, they live in weather-proof homes, and are easily trained.
Choosing your human
Humans don’t realise this, but we choose which humans to live with, and which ones to avoid. Avoid humans who start sneezing when we get close: they are allergic to us. Also avoid ones who try to kick us. A good human will bend down and reach out to scratch an ear and start saying something stupid like ‘Nice kitty kitty’. The trick is to get inside the human’s home to see if they have a suitable environment for one of our superior species.
Being carried around
While walking to one’s destination is preferable, it is nevertheless fun to be picked up and carried around by a human, because this provides a much loftier view of things. Female humans are more likely to pick you up. They will try to scratch your belly, so arch your back and they will reach under you. For some reason, most humans instinctively pick us up at that point.
Getting fed on time
Humans are somewhat erratic in their eating habits, but this must not be allowed to conflict with our getting fed exactly on time every day. Pick a time, usually at five in the morning, and insist on being fed. Vocalise your hunger and, if necessary, wake the human up. Initially, the human will throw you outside. But in a week or two they will catch on and get the food out on time.
Getting the right food
Unfortunately, modern humans are inept at hunting, thus they purchase all their food from shops. Generally, they buy things in cans, bags or boxes to feed us. They should try eating this stuff. As long as you have an adequate supply of naturally obtained food (i.e. tasty little mice), the appropriate training regime is to walk up to the bowl of this awful processed food, sniff at it, walk around the bowl a few times, and then decamp to your favourite perch for a nice nap. A few days of this, and the human will begin to feel worried that you will starve. Eventually they will produce something moderately edible. If, by chance, something really good turns up, make sure you let the human know this is preferred to the dry crunchy stuff.
Napping sites
Human dwellings are just full of nice little spots to nap, such as windowsills, the tops of dressers, inside closets, under couches, whatever. Many of these, however, will be places over which the human thinks they have control. You must disabuse them of this territoriality as soon as possible. Typically, if the human finds you in a place they think is theirs, they will grab you and toss you. You will have an exciting moment of flying through the air. Go back to your spot. After a while of this the human will mutter, ‘Stupid kitty,’ and leave you alone.
Other cats
Some humans are excessively fond of our companionship, and thus attempt to bring more than one of us into their home. Remember, first one inside is king (or queen). Humans don’t like the sound of our displeasure being voiced at an intruder, but they will rarely do anything about it. It is nice to have a few companions around, provided the human increases the food supply.
The litter box
Most humans are fairly conscientious about cleaning out the litter box with adequate frequency. However, some humans will accidentally lock us in a room, or forget to clean the litter box often enough. We all know what to do to the human on that occasion, don’t we.