MCat

mcat1st
A number of years ago I was looking at a collection of handmade terra cotta pots, loaded onto some fifteen pallets, that had just arrived from Italy.  I could hear mewing.  None of us could get a look at what was making that sound, but after 4 or 5 days a very tiny kitten could be seen drinking milk from a saucer Diana put out fresh twice a day.  He couldn’t have been more than 4 weeks old.  We of course were sure he had come across the ocean with the pots, so we named him Mauricio-our idea of the Italian word for Morris.  As Mauricio does not exactly roll off the tongue, I shortened that to MCat; this suits him perfectly.  It took Diana 6 weeks to coax him out from under that stack of pots. Our romantic interpretations aside,  I am fairly sure he was a feral cat, who had somehow lost his Mom.  He decided he would stay, once Diana started feeding him.
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He made friends fairly fast with Babyhead and Jojo-making friends with people took much longer.  He suffers me, and really loves Diana; men he has no use for. Visitors terrify him, one and all.  But he lives here now, in my office, or wherever else strikes his fancy. He is not often far from me.  Should I come to work in the morning, and not see him straight off, , chances are good Rob has inadvertently locked him in the garage for the night.
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That serious expression of his never changes.  Even when caught trying to fish for a koi I have had a long time.  It must be the wild part of him that will always be wild; his public expression is always serious and alert.   He is a different kind of natural wonder;  I am used to domestic creatures that interact with people.   Though I have never seen him be cross with a person or another animal, he is by and large, to himself. mcat4
A favorite game is “will you let me out the window, and then back in the window?”.  Going out the door does not amuse him much.   How he manages to avoid trashing the windowbox planting is beyond me.  It doesn’t matter what season it is either.  This game is just as much fun in the winter, as the summer.
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Though I thought I had plenty enough canine and feline company,  I could not deny him a home.  This old teddy bear is his companion in the winter months.  In the summer, he can be spotted almost anywhere-as long as its a protected spot up off the ground, where he can keep track of everyone’s comings and goings.

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But most days he makes himself right at home on my drafting table.  Many a print has had pawprints scrubbed off of them.  He and his Corgi friends Milo and Howard rule the roost here.  Somehow that seems just it should be.

mcat3Though I posted a few weeks ago that the loss of Rob’s schnauzer Libby was the end of an era, that assessment was more about my grief than the truth.   Eras overlap. Though she is gone, I have a group of three who this minute  delight me.  I have many plants still in my garden that date back to my purchase of my house and property 15 years ago.  MCat, Milo and Howard shared the space with the schnauzers-how they loved Libby at the last-and how this irritated her. She kept that irritation up start to finish.  These three never gave up,  hoping she would fall for them. Is this not a story every life has in some version or another?  I have old plants in my garden that were no doubt irritated, buffeted by my ownership.  The big idea here-eras overlap.  Keep the old friends in your garden as long as you can. Welcome your new friends, and move on. Its a new era.

Comments

  1. dave bockman says:

    Algea-water=yummy! Caught red-handed!

  2. Great post. How I love a good pet. I can so relate.

  3. He is beautiful! Aren’t cats interesting?

  4. MCat is the spitting image of my Pretty Parker 🙂

    We play the door game with our cats. With 5 cats it’s a never ending game

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