I have two adorable family members of the feline variety, as well as several cat relatives and cat friends. I fancy myself a bit of a cat whisperer.
I'm like Elmyra. I see a cat - any cat - and I run toward it. "Kiiiiiitttttty!!!" It could be a flea-infested, matted mongrel in a little New Orleans bistro and I'll still chase it down.
My Quasi Step Dad has a cat. Breyer. She's grumpy and rude, but I bribe her with treats.
I even have blogger cat friends. Miss Jacqui and Miss Sarcasm have cats. But Jacqui thinks hers is evil, and Miss Sarcasm says hers belongs to the devil. At least I adore them - even if it is from a distance.
One of my closest cat friends is Miss Mittens. Mittsie lives next door. Her legs and head are disproportionately small for her body and her toes are white. She cuddles with me when I house-sit.
Mittens is a rabble rouser.
One time she took off out the front door. It was cold and rainy and I just couldn't leave her, so I followed her out into the front yard. She led me across her yard, then across my yard, then into my other neighbours' yard - all the while staying just out of my reach. Then she ducked under my fence and into my backyard. "Damn it Mittsie!"
I gave up and went back to her house. But when I glanced out the back door, she was sitting on the edge of her pool drinking the water. "You little shit."
I crept outside to get her, but her mama didn't raise no fool. "Nope" she said. She was obviously cold, the little r-tard, but she led me around the pool anyway, allowing me to inch closer and closer, but not close enough. Finally she stopped, so I scooped her up and brought her in.
The stupid bugger knew JUST what she was doing. She was happy to come inside. It just had to be on HER terms.
Well, I guess I can relate to that.
Mittens died last week, very tragically and unexpectedly. Thinking of you my little darling.