|
"I
like cats. . . . And I don't like people who don't like
cats!" -
Ffolks, anti-terrorist commando (portrayed by Roger Moore)
Cat of The First Quarter of 1999:
Our Cat of The Quarter
for the first quarter of 1999, is Mittens,
a brown and gray longhaired mixed breed. In deference to his
age, we have given him an extra month on this site. If Mittens
were human, he would be
considered quite a geezer since he recently celebrated his twentieth
birthday. "Cat years," of course, aren't quite as
cut and dry as "dog years" which would place Mittens
at the human equivalent
of about 140.
Mittens,
was born in a horse barn. He shares the distinction with the
Key West descendents of Ernest Hemmingway's cats' of having a few
extra toes. He was overlooked and left behind when his family
moved out and he fended for himself for a couple of years.
Occasionally, though, he would stop by neighboring farms for a
handout when he was down on his luck. However, having a
healthy mistrust of humans, he always kept his distance. Even
when snacking on meals provided by his well meaning neighbors, Mittens
would growl fiercely and
take up an attack posture if his benefactors got too close.
About eighteen years ago, after suffering serious injuries during
subzero weather, Mittens
knew he needed help and had to trust someone. He was in bad
shape and had nothing to lose. He managed to make it to a farm
he had occasionally visited for a meal, a farm where he knew other
cats lived. Leaving a trail of bloody footprints in the snow, Mittens
went to the side door and let the residents know he was there and
needed their help. When the family brought him in, then took
him to the vet, Mittens somehow
knew that they were trying to help him, and he controlled his
inherent paranoid aggression and just hoped for the best.
Recovering from surgery, Mittens
moved into the farmhouse and over the next few years got to where he
could reluctantly put up with the other house cats and even
occasionally socialize with them. Mostly, though, he preferred
to spend his time outdoors, either alone or with his one trusted
pal, an orange, streetwise short-haired cat named Lefty.
Over the years, Mittens has
had many adventures, surviving injuries suffered while fighting
raccoons, recovering from gunshot wounds and eventually learning to
appreciate the other resident cats. Since aging has slowed him
down a little physically, he now relies more on his brains than
brawn. Recently, while fighting off a head cold, Mittens
was left in a room with a vaporizer. He didn't like the steam,
so he simply removed the vent register, walked through the wall and
returned to the bedroom. Cats can't smile, but Mitten's human
companion swears that cat was laughing at him and his sarcastic meow
seemed to say , "Nice try bud!"
|
|
