Hi, Pet Buddies! Once again I have ventured outside my canine comfort zone and into the fluffy and mysterious (to me) world of the Feline. Preparing for the interview, I remembered what my daddy used to tell me: “This sort of thing is Character Building. What doesn’t scratch you in the face can only strengthen you.”
I was heading for a Meow-Yap with Sadie Kervian, a Tortoise Shell cat who, I had been told, was “a little skittish.” I figured that could mean anything from peeking coyly out from behind a chair, to a crazed bundle of fluff flying at me like a tornado, claws bared and screaming like a banshee.
Turns out, Sadie’s Mom, Karen, is Sadie’s Human Comfort Zone and, as long as she could be close to her Mom, she was a cool kitten.
“Good to meet you, Sadie,” I said in my non-growly voice. “I gotta say, you have a beautiful coat.” Girls like compliments, right? And she was really pretty (for a cat) – a tiny little thing, mostly orange, plus gray, cream and white, big round eyes.
She licked her paw delicately, curled her fluffy tail around her feet. “Thank you, Mr. Bonzo. I was nervous, but Mom says you’re OK (for a dog). Anyway, I really want my picture in the paper.”
“You got it, Sadie!” I assured her. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Well, I’m a little fuzzy about my kittenhood. Something happened to my mom, I guess. The first thing I really remember is being way high in a tree and scared to pieces. I didn’t recognize anything and I was hungry. So I meowed and meowed. Then a lady came out and saw me, so I jumped. Well, I actually just sort of let go of the branch and tumbled. I landed on my feet, tho.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that about you guys,” I said.
The lady picked me up and I started purring like mad. And I had found my Forever Home. Mom named me Sadie because she named her other cat Helen for Hell on Wheels, by Paul McCartney. So she named me Sadie for John Lennon’s Sexy Sadie. Isn’t that cool?”
“Totally! I knew a dog named Ringo once,” I told her.
“Mom and Dad call me their Golden Girl.” She licked her paw again. “I’m an indoor-outdoor cat. I love to hang out under the boat or under the truck in the carport. Just sit and watch the wind blow. And – I come when Mom calls. But Mom knows it’s always MY decision.
“Inside, I have a toy basket, and I have this system: I choose one toy. Then I bat it around for a long time. Then I get another one. Until they’re all over the place. Then Mom tidies them all up. My favorite toys are feathers. Also balls. Balls with feathers are the BEST. I love to rip the feathers off. For some reason, Mom laughs when I gallop around the house. She says I sound like a horse. I don’t really know why I do it. Sometimes, I just get this urge. I pretend I’m a ferocious lion, chasing a gazelle.”
“Have you ever seen a gazelle?” I asked.
“Um, no. But I saw a lion chasing a gazelle on TV. The chasing part looks really fun, but the catching part – not so much. I mean, the gazelles would never speak to you again, right?”
“I expect not,” I said.
“I’m well mannered, too. Except once when I was a teeny kitten, I accidently ripped the whole bottom out of one of Mom’s chairs. But it was just that one time.”
“Live and learn,” I mumbled.
“Anyway, I eat regular dry cat food and I get fresh fish or tuna for a treat, when Mom comes home from work. I’m into fish. And,” she looked me right in the eye. “I’m NOT scared of dogs. Mom says dogs had better beware of me.”
I made a mental note.
“Oh, and Mr. Bonzo – I have my own room with my litter box and pillows and a futon and all my stuff. A couch, too.”
“Sweet,” I said. “Know any tricks?”
“Only the one. When Dad comes home, I meet him in the driveway. He says roll over and I do it. I just feel it’s the right thing to do, he gets so much fun out of it. Honestly, what is it about humans?”
“Beats me,” I said.
“I’m well-travelled, too. I love riding in the car. It’s so exciting. I’ve been to the Outer Banks and Charleston. I ride in my carrier. I’m quiet and polite and never make a mess.”
I rose to leave. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Sadie,” I said.
From the safety of her Mom’s lap, she called, “Bye-bye, Mr. Bonzo. I can’t wait to see my picture.”
