Cats

I have a terrible memory. I remember very few details about things that happened just 2 or 3 years ago, and I remember even less about what happened to me 10 or 15 years ago. I remember living in Mexico (could've been Mexico City or Acapulco... I told you I had a bad memory) and I lived in a house or apartment with a really tall staircase leading up to it. We used to find little stray kittens on the steps of the stairway and we took them in. I don't remember how many kittens we got or what happened to them when we moved to Acapulco or the US (depending on where that house was in the first place), but it gives me a nice feeling to know that we took in some little kitties.

My sister was turning twelve and I was getting dressed for her birthday party in my room. The room started shaking and I was completely at a loss for what was happening. My dad ran into the room and threw me under a table. The date was October 17, 1989. Dinner was cancelled for the evening. My sister came home with a cat that day, his name was Custard.

One night, around the first week or two we'd had him, I tucked Custard under my blanket with me when I went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and he was in the exact same spot, but he'd moved on top of the blanket somehow.

A few years later, I think it was 1992, a pack of stray cats appeared at our house. There were a handful of gray and black kittens with white fur on their necks and white paws like socks. Most of these newborns came and went from our patio, but one runt was too feeble to escape over the fence. We took her in and gave her a bath. She was covered in giant, nasty red fleas. We named her Teeny and she joined Custard, now known as Cootie, in our household. We caught a few of the other strays, Teeny's siblings, and took them to the humane society. They were already quite feral and emaciated despite their precious few months being alive.

Teeny wasn't housebroken by any leap of the imagination for at least a year. She often left us little "gifts" around the house. After a year or so she had a decent amount of bodily control and would use the litter box with more frequency. She put on lots of weight though she remained quite the runt. She and Cootie bonded despite Teeny's lack of friendly tendencies. One time, while watching "Hey Dude" on Nickelodeon she slept on my lap for about half an. hour. That's the only time she ever sat with me calmly and without being restrained.

My friend Ruben lost his cat Rusty while we were seniors in high school. One time when I was at Ruben's house Rusty was giving off the strangest scent whenever he'd walk by. Rusty never smelled so weird every other time I went to Ruben's house, even when David picked Rusty up and smelled him up close. Rusty never came back. I imagine that would be very sad.

Chicharron (aka Chichi) and Biscuit came to the house when my brother and his wife moved in back in the spring of 2001. Biscuit was a pest. He was fat, mopey and all he did was eat paper (ie: tear papers, photos, posters of the wall, table, etc. and shred them to pieces) with alarming regularity. Chichi was but a kitten and was shy yet energetic. Cootie and Biscuit battled for supremacy as the males of the household. Cootie was old but usually held his own against Biscuit's muscular fatness.

Teeny lost all bladder control and brainpower when the new cats arrived. I caught her once next to the front door peeing on the carpet while staring at my with guilt in her eyes. She kept peeing, even after our eyes met. After a year of this sort of behavior we took her to the Humane Society, like her siblings long ago, and bid her farewell.

It was at this time that Chichi began to butter me up with cuddling and general friendliness. Biscuit remained fat and antisocial. Cootie began holding brief meow and grunt filled conversations with me whenever I would walk into my mom's bedroom. Biscuit began to scare Cootie away every time they would duel with each other.

A few weeks after Teeny's departure Biscuit was taken away to live with my sister-in-law's brother. He was out of my hair and I didn't have to feel the guilt of having him put to sleep. Chichi and Cootie remained at the house. Chichi would sleep with me at night, Cootie would talk to me, and the house became less urine-scented and less ravaged by claws.

Slow Gherkin wrote a song called "Roger" on their album "Shed Some Skin". It's about the lead singer's cat and the love between cat and owner. It is one of the sweetest love songs ever.

Bob V.