For the sake of full disclosure: I’ve never really liked cats as a group. I’ve even been known to chase a few of them up trees. I frankly thought they were snooty and annoying. BUT – the few cats that I’ve actually met were not quite what I expected. OK, so maybe I’m rethinking some stuff.
I interviewed a senior citizen last week – Trixie McMurry – a sleek, slender, black and white Standard American Shorthair. Yeah, she’s a Cat. She talked about her glory days and the challenges she has now that she’s had to slow down. It gave me paws. Trixie is 19 human years old, almost 20. According to Purina (and if they don’t know, who does?) that makes her 92 in cat years. 92!
I had shifted out of chase mode and was all Bonzo the Columnist by the time the door opened. I was greeted by her human mom and dad, Marte and Harvey, and when I got comfy on the floor, Marte brought Trixie in and placed her on the couch. Trixie came over slowly and sniffed my nose. I smiled and said I was so-ooo happy to meet her.
“You’ll have to speak a little louder, Bonzo, dear,” she said in a soft but not wobbly voice. “I don’t hear so well. And sometimes things look a little fuzzy. But I’m happy you came to visit. What would you like to talk about?”
“Tell me about your life, Miss Trixie,” I said.
“Well, way back when, people would dump their unwanted dogs and cats in the parking lot at the hospital in Vero Beach – at night. Then the Emergency Room staff would find them and, if they could catch them, they’d bring them to the pound.”
“Oh, my gosh,” was all I could say.
“One night, I think it was 1996 – I was just a wee kitten – I got dumped out. I was so scared I hid in some bushes. But my guardian kitty angel was watching out for me: my human mom, (she’s a nurse) was working the night shift and heard me crying because I was really hungry. She found me and was going to take me to the pound on her way home. The ER people took turns taking the dumped animals there. I was too tired and hungry to be scared, and I was cold, so I climbed up her arm and snuggled between the back of her neck and the car seat. For some reason, right then and there, she decided to just go home. With me! And that’s how I got my new mom and my forever home. And, later, my new dad, too. Plus some human sisters.”
I admit I was kinda choked up.
Seeing me all emotional, she said kindly, “Oh, Bowser, dear, it all worked out wonderfully for me. As I grew up, I realized my true potential. Even though I wasn’t big, I was strong and smart. And I discovered I had a lot of the characteristics of my ancient Egyptian sisters. I turned into a fearless huntress. I had my own cat door and I’d hunt every night. I was always bringing mice, snakes, birds and yes, bunnies, and my favorite – moles home to mom and dad. Dad says I must have captured 30 to 40 moles in my day. I even tried to teach my humans to hunt, the way we teach kittens. I’d bring something wiggly in and try to get them to practice on it. But, funniest thing, they just never seemed to get the hang of it and even, if you can believe it, seemed to think it was distasteful.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’ve noticed that about my humans, too, usually after I’ve been out rolling in something. Go figure. But, please, continue.” I was fascinated.
“Well, dear, I’ll have to admit I sowed a bit of wild catnip in my day. When my human mom took a trip to Europe, I slipped out on my catsitter one night and, to put it delicately, I presented my mom with six perfectly adorable kittens. They all got good homes, of course.“
Miss Trixie had a faraway look in her eye as she said, dreamily, “oh, my, he was a handsome fellow – golden coat, one blue eye, and one green. Just swept my off my paws.
“Mom and Dad and I used to go camping. And Mom is an artist and I’ve been her model lots of times.” She licked her paw and tidied her whiskers.
“But I’m not the cat I used to be, just can’t get around much these days. I used to win all my cat fights but one time I came home totally beat up and I realized those days were gone. Since I don’t go out and hunt and climb trees anymore, my toenails get all long and scratchy, so I go to get them clipped, which I dearly loathe. The humans are nice, but I’m glad to get back home.
“Nowadays I stay in the house mostly. But I still survey my domain from the back deck. And mom and dad take great care of me, even though I can be a bit finicky about my food. I love Fancy Feast and gravy, but my favorite People Food is ham and sausage, and an occasionally some cheese. And when my mom’s friend cat-sits me, she always stops at KFC to get our dinner. That’s the Cat’s Pajamas!”
“What do you do for fun?” I asked.
“These days, for fun – I nap. You’ll understand that someday. Believe me, getting old is not for the faint of heart. I forget things, like whether I had dinner or not. But I’ve had an exciting life – lots of good memories in these 92 years. And, I’ve already picked out a lovely spot in my backyard, near where I used to catch the moles, for when I go to that Big Sandbox.”
I almost lost it at that point. But she had such a great cattitude, I realized I was learning some stuff. About her, but also about me. “Thank you for sharing your story, Miss Trixie.”
“It was lovely meeting you, Bozo, dear.” And she curled up, and began to purr.
