MEOW!

CAT PARTY

 

I shall never understand, be able to figure out, how my precious, pedigreed, white Persian cat met Prince Gozo, a Maltese cat, and gifted me with five orange Maltese kittens, 4 males,  and one scraggly white female Persian. Arana, my precious, afforded me no hint of what was coming. Her soft fur, plump body, seemed normal to me. During her daily brushing, she purred with pleasure. After her healthy breakfast served in a most special cut glass bowl, any slight change in her belly had to be due to over-feeding. I cut back a tad on her favorite meal, PurrFect Cat Food.

 

After a short nap, routinely, Arana climbed her scratch pole. It was designed special for her in a soft blue fabric like the sky on an ideal morning in May. Many times I've found her sitting on top of the pole a lookout on a pirate ship. Her yellow eyes survey the kitchen , the refrigerator door. She can lap up a full cup of milk faster than I can pour a cup of coffee. I settle down to watch her toy with her toys.

 

Prince Gozo had been scratching at my locked kitchen door, ruining the brown stain. Finally I had to speak to Senor Aiden who lives around the corner from my house. I rang the front doorbell.  'Senor, your cat is ruining my back door. He has scratched off most of the shellac and he disturbs my Persian cat, Arani, who does not go out into the street, into gardens that clearly are out of her area. I would appreciate your cooperation by keeping him indoors or accompanying him when he needs a long walk. With your cooperation, I won't bother you about the cost of repairing my door.' I leave him agape.

 

A week after my spitting tongue had done its work, I found Arana birthing the kits. I almost fainted dead away. The kitchen was a mess. Tiny, tiny kittens were not washed clean yet. I was in a whirl, not ever had I experienced one birth and there in front of me were four, then five, then six really scrawny looking baby cats. Arana began licking them clean, laid down and let them try to nurse but it was too soon. I called Dr. Applebee, Arana's vet, to find out what to do but couldn't handle it. I called him again and had him come over. He wanted one of the kits as a gift for a niece and selected the one Persian. I refused but gave him a choice of one or two Maltese. Thank heavens he took two. I left Arana caring for her kits and I went to see Senor Alden again. He was almost as shocked as I. In his Spanish accent he agreed to take the remaining 2 Maltese off my hands. I kept the white tainted one and one Maltese, so Arana will have a playmate before long.

 

Arana pined for the missing kittens, barely ate, stayed off her scratch pole. She took good care of her own blood, the white Persian, who was soon able to stand. I bottle fed the Maltese. She did not compare in beauty to my Persian pet but was so cute, he stayed .

 

I was ready to call an exterminator when I found mouse dirt in my pantry. In all the years I've kept house no such intruder ever dared to come inside. I knew, knew for certain, this was not outside dirt. There was a mouse in my house. I could not put out mouse poison or a trap, possibly catch one of my wonderful cats.

 

At 2 a.m. on a Friday the 13th there was a lot of noise in my kitchen. For a moment I was going to call 911 but then I heard meowing, lots of meowing, ran downstairs to the kitchen and my entire cat family was running in circles with the mouse in the lead. Once I saw Arana grab the mouse's tail and let it go. I sprinkled grated cheese on the floor and the cats had a party.

 

So did I.