December Daily: cats

rhi -- cats.

Been looking forward to this one!

My Aunt Bet lived with her husband out in the country in the bend of a creek, and she fed (but did not neuter or otherwise look after) a huge and various cast of barn cats, who would wander the woods killing water mocassins and leaving them on the porch as gifts, and every now and then squeeze into a hollow back porch step and have a litter of kittens.

These were the half-feral children of half-feral mothers, so getting them to interact with you was a challenge but not impossible. I distinctly remember Aunt Bet telling little five-year-old me, "You have to be very, very still and very, very quiet."

The main thing I love about cats is how pleasant they are to touch, but I also love that you have to be very, very still and very, very quiet. Getting a cat's attention feels like an accomplishment in self-containment. They don't want you to need them -- they just want you to be companionable.

And yet I've never had a cat who was a real loner; all my cats have been the type to follow me from room to room demanding attention.

Dozens of times in my life I've said, "Hey, that would be a great name for a cat." (I always thought the Chicago suburb of Skokie would be a great name for a cat.) But every cat that didn't arrive already named has rejected the list of names and demanded a new name chosen just for it.



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