Things-I-Love-Thursday: Cats

I can't remember when I first realised that I was a cat person. I didn't have one growing up as my mum is not at all a cat lover, but I can remember really wanting one as a teenager. Almost as soon as I moved out of home I rescued a tiny little black kitten from the doorstep of someone I worked with. She'd been abandoned there as a baby and they could not keep her. I named her Puss. Puss was a very naughty girl. She would pull all of the toilet paper off the roll and carry it around the house. She also got pregnant at a very early age and had a litter of kittens with the cat next door. No, I was not a responsible cat owner at age 18, I had not had her desexed!

Puss moved with me from house to house and my fondest memories of her are at my little flat in the Hobart suburb of Mount Nelson where she sat with me through many an all-nighter spent completing my Honours thesis. She did used to disappear a lot, though. Sometimes for days at a time. I'd be outside calling to her in the middle of the night and imagining all sorts of nasty ends that she'd met. Then, just as mysteriously as she'd leave, she'd arrive back meowing at the front door again. I never did find out where she went.

When I moved to Melbourne in 2000 it proved pretty impractical to bring Puss with me. It was difficult to find rental properties that would accept a pet and the move, whilst exciting, was also really stressful. Our family friends, Fiona and Bruce, agreed that they would adopt Puss and look after her as part of their family. Puss lived happily with them as the Queen of their household for many years. Then, one day, she disappeared and this time did not come back. I think she must have been about twelve or thirteen years old. I still feel sad when I think that Puss is probably no longer of this earth. She was a lovely, lovely cat.

Pepper came into my life, along with his brother PK, in July 2003, just after I'd returned from a few months teaching English in Japan. My then-partner and I picked up these two gorgeous black boys from the Keysborough Animal Shelter. We'd only planned on adopting one kitten, but we could not leave the other there by himself as the only remaining kitten of the litter.

This is Pepper when he was a little baby, with PK's paws getting in on the picture!

Unfortunately we only had such things as an actual film camera back then, so I need to scan all my old photos before I can post any pictures of little PK! Isn't Peppy the absolute cutest little package you've ever seen? He's peeking out of a hairdryer box!

Though they looked almost identical, Pepper and PK had very distinctly different personalities. Pepper was a sweet, affectionate, timid angel. PK was a monster! I laugh just thinking about what a naughty boy he was. I lost count of the number of poor wild creatures that lost their lives as a result of PK's superb hunting prowess. He was a very proud hunter, too, always bringing back the bodies of his victims to show. Baby possums, birds, mice and rats - no small creatures were immune.

One night Sharon stayed over and I remember we had settled down to watch what was then our favourite show, All Saints. PK came running inside with a live mouse clenched between his teeth. We screamed and screamed and did not know what to do! The mouse ran behind the dishwasher and we were terrified of sleeping in the house with a mouse on the loose. In the end, we locked PK in the kitchen area and hoped that he would 'deal with' the situation overnight. When we awoke the next morning, there was the mouse, dead in the middle of the floor. He must have sat so patiently in front of the dishwasher all night until it thought the coast was clear. Then bam!

Another time I was home alone and PK brought in another mouse. One of the kitchen cupboards was slightly ajar and he deposited the mouse inside in an attempt to trap it. I ran next door and knocked on the door to speak to a man I'd never met before. I must have been in such a panic that my usual social reticence had disappeared! I begged him to come over and capture the mouse. So, I willingly let this strange man into my house with an ice cream container, and he very dashingly collected it up and took it away for me. PK was not amused.

Little PK had a action-filled, but very short life. Not long after we got him, he was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. He was a very sick boy for a long time. He was insulin dependent and had to be injected twice a day. His vet bills were huge. My partner and I ended up breaking up, and I was left alone with sole custody of the feline children. As I was alone and studying at the time this was a big source of emotional and financial stress. The vet was not able to keep PK's blood sugar levels at a healthy level. Back then I did not know about special diets and feline specialists that might have better managed his condition. After living with the affects of his diabetes for a long time, I had to make the agonising decision to have PK put down. It was the worst day of my life, until recently of course, and the hardest decision I ever had to make. PK was cremated, and I have his ashes in a little wooden urn that I still talk to sometimes. I held a memorial service for him where I read from The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot.

From then on, it was just me and Peppy until Leslie came along many years later. Boy have Pep and I been through a lot together. He has always been my constant companion and most faithful friend and I cannot imagine life without him.

Sometimes I'm surprised that I'm really the only cat-person I know. Most of the people close to me prefer dogs and I try to be understanding of this fatal personality flaw. When I do meet a fellow cat person, though, I feel an instant kindred connection. And yes, I know that's something that only a crazy cat lady would say.

Why do I love cats? Well, before I go on, I should say that there is one type of cat I do not love: Siamese. They are very insecure and very mean in my experience, so please assume that everything I say I love about cats does not apply to those oriental bullies. I love cats because they make you work for their affection. A cat does not pretend to like you for the sake of a few meaty treats, so you know that once you have their friendship they really, really mean it. Cats are also extremely loyal to their owners, and very sensitive to human emotions. Pepper knows when I am upset or sick and never leaves my side. He extends his little paw out to touch my face and is always checking on me.

Cats can teach you a lot about life, if you're willing to patiently observe their lessons and learn from their example. A cat can teach you how to relax and really enjoy life. That is something they are really good at. They live in the moment - every stretch and every yawn appears to be purposefully undertaken for the sheer enjoyment of it. They are very mindful in their ways. Cats are wary of strangers, and are often introverts, as are the best people. There is nothing more soothing than a warm cat purring on your lap, vibrating waves of feline goodness all the way to your heart. Cats also do not smell bad like dogs and do not ever hump your leg (yes, Kate, this one is pointed directly at you!). They are graceful and elegant, refined and intelligent, discerning and with blessed with impeccable deportment. A cat will never embarrass you in company. In short, cats are everything I wish to be. As this song attests, everybody wants to be a cat: