After rearing a pet that didn’t last for more than two years, I almost despaired on such a great cause…but no, I had the strength to do it again. The little pawed felines were just too adorable to give up on. I couldn’t resist their charm. My sisters and I set out to find another moggie. Initially we weren’t so successful; but then, like an answer to our prayers, my small sisters’ twin friends brought her a beautiful pet: Her fur -like her ‘predecessor’- was white, but she had some burnt orange and black patches on the back. When she made her grand entrance I was in school- in my last year of high school.
Ironically she took an instant liking to me, but I had trouble reciprocating. I didn’t know her well enough to start chasing her around the house, even though I knew she would have loved that immensely. Luckily, the little setback didn’t persist because by the time my first day home was over we were hugging like two best friends who had known each other all their lives. We were even eating from the same plate-my plate; I would place spaghetti on the edge of my plate, leaving one end dangling and slowly she would chew on it.
I’m not too sure if it was out of languor or we were simply trying to honour the memory of her predecessor, but we also named her Kitty. I bet she loved her name because everytime we called her she would responds with a soft “Meow” and if she was some place out of sight she would come running excitedly.
Sometimes when she was bored she would perch on my leg and because I didn’t want to disrupt her peace I’d drag my leg with her still resting on it. I’m guessing she loved it because she always seized the opportunity to do that whenever she saw anyone standing.
At her young age she got used to our hugs, so whenever she was bored she would climb up our legs, like she would a tree. It was easy for her because most of the time we were in jeans so her tiny claws would dig into them, providing her with a firm grip. Slowly and steadily she would find her way into our arms. I found that amusing. However, I found it painful at times because she would decide to do ‘the climb’ when I was in a skirt or shorts…her claws would inflict some slight scratches on my skin. She was bright because if she felt her claws weren’t digging into something solid she would result to plan B; she would do a mighty leap, hoping to grab the edges of the skirt or dress…but that only worked if it was long enough for her to jump at; if one was seated she would climb up the couch then walk up to them and eventually rest on their laps.
I didn’t want her scarring my legs in an attempt to secure a place in my arms, so if I realized she was trying to climb up my legs I would just bend and pick her up. She loved it. As she grew up pretty fast, we realized she couldn’t do ‘her climb’ anymore; she was heavier than before; additionally, she couldn’t perch on our legs anymore as she couldn’t balance her weight on the small surface area. But that didn’t stop us from having fun…
If her target was standing she would lithely mount whatever surface one was standing next to, then she would stand on her hind limbs and tenderly she would lean on them, supporting herself with her front paws. We had already learnt to interpret her body language; that was cue for “Carry me, please”… if I wasn’t too busy I would give in to her wishes; I would take her in my arms, stroke her gently…reciprocating, she would rub my face with her paw. At times she gave me the impression she understood our unspoken words. Most of the time when she placed her paw on my face I was afraid she would claw me but no, that never happened. She was naturally affectionate.
When one was busy she somehow understood that playing wasn’t possible, so she’d just stay on the floor, walking to and fro, rubbing her smooth body against one’s legs carrying her tail high.
I remember this one time I was lying on the couch sick; and alone in the house. She was out playing. When she crept in through the window she walked straight to me. She stood there on her twos, with her front paws leaning on the couch, staring at me and after a short while she jumped up, curled up beside me and we slept…
After finishing high school, I had plenty of time to sleep, write, watch movies and stuff; if ever anyone left the bedroom door open she would walk in, jump on the bed, and there she would do crazy things just to get me to wake up; she would sit on me, lie next to me, kneading me…if that failed to work she would just purr…and if that failed she would just throw in the towel and sleep, curled up beside me. I loved her.
Everyone in the family treated her like she was one of us; like she was the last born.
When she was about eighteen months old, her hormones started raging, when a stray male moggie sighted her. I never thought I would ever get to see her ‘horny’…I must admit, it was the most disturbing experience ever; Kitty would lie on the ground, rolling on her back, restlessly, caterwauling. It is the latter that I found especially annoying. She would howl mournfully- letting out sounds of R’s- for hours on end. When she was calm her male interest would be there, outside our back door calling out to her in the same chirrs.
Interestingly, I had never seen a cat in heat before, but my instincts told me she was just ‘hormonal’…my mom and big sister couldn’t understand why she was in that state; at first they thought she was sick…but I assured them there was nothing to lose sleep over really; it was nature taking its course.
My sister and I tried to keep her indoors; but Kitty couldn’t resist the urge. She mounted counters in the kitchen groaning, tried to climb the doors that led outside, paced to and fro like a deranged moggie, all in an attempt to go to that male cat, who would ‘cure’ her off her carnal cravings…did I mention it was horrible? If I didn’t know better I would think she was going to meet her maker…she looked needy, helpless, confused…
Evidently she had lost control over her body; the only thing she was aware of was her desire to copulate… I had never seen her in that state before….