An old cat's dying soliloquy

Years saw me still Acasto’s mansion grace,
The gentlest, fondest of the tabby race;
Before him frisking through the garden glade,
Or at his feet in quiet slumber laid;
Praised for my glossy back of zebra streak,
And wreaths of jet encircling round my neck;
Soft paws that ne’er extend the clawing nail,
The snowy whisker and the sinuous tail;
Now feeble age each glazing eyeball dims,
And pain has stiffened these once supple limbs;
Fate of eight lives the forfeit gasp obtains,
And e’en the ninth creeps languid through my veins.
Much sure of good the future has in store,
When on my master’s hearth I bask no more,
In those blest climes, where fishes oft forsake
The winding river and the glassy lake;
There, as our silent-footed race behold
The crimson spots and fins of lucid gold,
Venturing without the shielding waves to play,
They gasp on shelving banks, our easy prey:
While birds unwinged hop careless o’er the ground,
And the plump mouse incessant trots around,
Near wells of cream that mortals never skim,
Warm marum creeping round their shallow brim;
Where green valerian tufts, luxuriant spread,
Cleanse the sleek hide and form the fragrant bed.
Yet, stern dispenser of the final blow,
Before thou lay’st an aged grimalkin low,
Bend to her last request a gracious ear,
Some days, some few short days, to linger here;
So to the guardian of his tabby’s weal
Shall softest purrs these tender truths reveal:
‘Ne’er shall thy now expiring puss forget
To thy kind care her long-enduring debt,
Nor shall the joys that painless realms decree
Efface the comforts once bestowed by thee;
To countless mice thy chicken-bones preferred,
Thy toast to golden fish and wingless bird;
O’er marum borders and valerian bed
Thy Selima shall bend her moping head,
Sigh that no more she climbs, with grateful glee,
Thy downy sofa and thy cradling knee;
Nay, e’en at founts of cream shall sullen swear,
Since thou, her more loved master, art not there.’

Anna Seward, 1792

Lessons from the old cat

I don't know why you suddenly noticed
The protruding arch of my spine
and the limp in the back quarter
The quiver in my left front paw
when I'm sitting watching you.
It's been that way for a while,
because I've been old for years.
I can't jump up to the couch.
I have to scramble, undignified,
Hauling myself like a seal onto the ice.
I appreciate it when you
carry me up the stairs at night
So I don't have to limp step by step,
And you put me on the bed
where I can press myself against you
Sharing warmth in the cold night.
I wrap my paws around your arm
And dream of younger days, whiskers twitching.
My coat is still soft to the touch,
though parts are more cotton now than silk.
And yet, my eyes are clear,
I still love to play,
and my purr rumbles on.
For I know how to purr
Like no cat you've ever known,
Deep, strong, and  comforting.
I don't know I'm on the down slope,
I just know I'm slowing down,
But I may have years left in me:
Don't mourn me till I'm gone.

The Wise Old Cat

The wise old cat says "It's cold outside,
And the rain begins to fall,
I think I'll sleep upon the bed
And I won't go out at all."

"In my youth," he says, "I'd roam all day
Ignoring rain and wind,
But now I'm over 10 years old,
It's best that I stay in."

"Ah but I ran and leaped and nearly flew
for in those days I was thin,
I terrorized the mice and birds,
But now I will stay in."

Says the wise old cat, "those were the days
In memory, now just a gleam
I'll rest these old bones upon the bed
And sleep and purr and dream."

Poem by IT and Bubba

Bubba comes home

I told you a while ago about our boarders, the cats belonging to our friend D who was between houses. Well, D finally reclaimed one of his cats--Nani, aka PsychoKitty, or Mr Thunderpaws, and as we hoped, decided that the other cat, Bubba, had found his soulmates and so left him with us. I'll tell you in a minute about Nani's new home.

Bubba, a former indoor-outdoor cat, decided to redefine himself as a Kept Cat of Lesbians and become a complete housecat with us. He is a fat fellow (no, he's just fuzzy, right?) who sleeps all day between couch and bed. Of course being wimmin we are trying to improve him....he's on a diet, and gets regular brushing and nail trimming.

But he loves it. A real people cat, his favorite position is on his back demanding love and cuddles. BP laughs that sometimes she finds me asleep with Bubba lying on his back in the crook of my arm with his paw on my cheek. When he hears the garage door in the evening, he meets us at the door eager for dinnner. He's very engaging with a bit of a catnip mouse habit. Clearly, Bubba thinks he's found heaven. Finally, we have become stereotypical lesbians: we have a cat.

Nani and D moved to a huge house with D's fiancee and her cat. Nani, who is a lean, mean, hunting machine, loves his new neighborhood and has presented D with rats, rabbits, and the occasional bird. He's a rather reptilian cat, friendly up front with the neighbors, but prone on intimate acquaintance to unprovoked attacks and thunderous running fits, hence his nicknames. But D loves him. D came home the other day and found Nani waiting for him. There was a cable tie around Nani's neck, snug but not harmful, and attached to it was a sort of capsule inside of which was a note printed in a small font.

"Your cat is killing the birds and lizards in my yard," the note said. "You'd better keep him home...it would be a shame if something happened to such a beautiful cat."

Chilling, no? with the subtext being "next time I pull the cable tie tight". I never understand how one can claim to defend life by taking it, and while Nani is not my favorite cat, I would never wish him any ill. The NY Times reported last week that people who abuse animals are at greatly increased risk for violence against people. Nani, who is utterly unafraid of people, of course has no clue that he's in danger from some other psycho.

Note to psycho: Use a hose to squirt Nani and he'll get the idea to stay out of your yard. Shrinking notes into capsules to threaten an animal says a lot more about you than anything else, and not in a good way.

Change of pace: our new boarders

Sometimes we just need a break from all the seriousness and pain around us. It's pouring rain in Southern California today; I'm glad it's a holiday as I always feel that I should tuck up at home on stormy days. Southern Californians don't handle rain at all well (as a native Northern Californian, I feel safe sneering about this.)

Our friend D. is between houses right now, and asked us a couple of months ago if we could look after his two indoor-outdoor (mostly outdoor) cats. We agreed, with some trepidation.

One cat, Nani, is a tuxedo cat, very lithe and elegant in black and white. I call him Psycho-kitty as he is prone to attack without warning, and I don't mean playfully. He's not very affectionate, he never says a word, and on the rare occasions he purrs you can only hear it if you put your head right on his ribs (which can be dangerous.) Nani likes to spend the day outside patrolling the neighborhood against rodents, and only deigns to come inside for meals and sleeping on a chair, unless it's raining.

The other cat, Bubba, is a fat ginger cat, who made a habit in his old neighborhood of begging food from half the houses on the street. (The picture here is foreshortened, Bubba is actually quite a bit bigger than Nani.) He was of more concern to us because he was known to behave badly in the house. Imagine our surprise to find that Bubba has completely reinvented himself to be the perfect gentleman indoors, becoming the ultimate housecat. He refuses to venture outside even into our protected garden. He sleeps most of the day on the bed while we're at work, but in the evening comes downstairs to sit on the couch with us and watch television. Bubba has a deep reverberating purr, which seems to be running most of the time. He likes to lie on his back and be stroked, which is irresistible as he is very soft.

D. came over the other day and was amazed to find Bubba playing with cat toys. I think everyone had dismissed him as a slow and duddy fat cat, but he's become quite engaging. We've even managed to reduce a few pounds off his generous frame. ("Why Bubba! You have hips!") I admit I'm kind of hoping D. lets us keep Bubba.