Cats

I don’t like cats. I have never liked cats. They make me sneeze and I don’t find them appealing in any way. The trouble is they like me. I don’t know what it is but cats seem to be attracted to me? It seems like every time I go someplace where there is a cat around it ends up coming over and rubbing against me or wanting to sit on my lap. It’s very annoying!

We had a cat when we lived on West Clay Street. Angie had returned from a weeklong retreat with it I think? I wasn’t very happy about it but what could I do? The girls loved the kitten and named it Hilda. I thought that was a suitable name for a feline.

This cat lived in our basement and was only upstairs to pass through the kitchen, back porch and out the backdoor. She did, on occasion, love to show her independence by taking a path through the whole house. That was something that annoyed Becky and, of course, me too!

Although the girls professed to love the kitten they fed it on an irregular basis. Sometimes she had food provided and at other times she had to forage for whatever she got to eat. She had a regular route through the neighborhood and I always hoped she would catch and eat the mice in the basement. She wasn’t too good at that. Too much work I think?

One winter I trapped so many mice in the basement that I skinned them and had the hides made into gloves. I couldn’t wear them though because the all of the cats in town followed me around when I did.

Early one summer morning when Hilda was still a kitten I was awakened by a terrible racket in the basement. I went down there only to discover that the kitten had gotten into some fuel oil that I was siphoning out of a large tank. The little kitten was covered with the stuff! Each time she took a step she let out a horrible howl and would extend a leg out in front of her and shake it like crazy. When I saw the cat howl, step, extend, shake and then do it all over again with the other foot I couldn’t contain myself. I burst out laughing and it continued for some time.

Finally, I realized the cat wasn’t laughing so I needed a plan. I got a bowl of water some dish soap, and I, still in my underwear, carried the kitten out to the patio. Then I shampooed her six times. Somewhere in the middle of it all my neighbors, Charlie and Eunice Shappell, on their way to work came out their back door and caught me in all my glory. They stopped, looked at me, shook their heads, and headed off to work. They never did ask I me to explain what I was doing early that morning on the patio with that cat.

If that kitten liked me before he loved me now because, I think, he attributed me with saving his life.