We
choose a three colored tiny kitten. I have one of those old-fashioned
bed
spreads with loops tightly woven into a pattern. Popular in the 1960’s
Our
Mewsette thinks it is a wall-to-wall mama.
She spends time purring and thinking she is going to be
satisfied with
milk at some point.
One
evening we invite one of my husband’s friends over. The three of us sit
at the
small kitchen table enjoying a simple
meal, talking and telling stories of work and family when his friend
looked at
me, oddly. He moves back and glances at my husband, then looks back at
me. I see
the kitten and pick her up. I tell hm, “I’m sorry if the kitten
bothered you.” She
jumps up onto my lap and he sees her do it.
“She likes to climb.”
He
looked at me with a relieved expression, “I thought you were playing
with my
leg and I was feeling awful for my friend. I’m so happy it was just the
cat.”
We
have a good laugh and end up being better friends.
--------------------------
We
buy a little two-bedroom house. We have our independent cat, Mewsette. When we leave for the big city, San
Bernardino or Lancaster to shop, we often get home to see she is inside
after
being left outside. We never figure out how she does that. It’s
puzzling that a
home built with a concrete foundation would have any access points for
a cat to
enter or leave. All the windows are closed as are the doors.
One
trip we come home, tired. I go into the all-white and pink nursery and
lay
sleeping Lisa in her crib, then sit on the white rocker and sing
quietly to
Jenny, until she falls asleep. I’m rocking at a slow peaceful pace and
notice
Mewsette sitting right in front of me with one of her ‘looks’. I’m
thinking this
means BIG trouble if I can’t figure out what’s up. She was inside the
house
when we got home and had been outside when we left.
I
start looking around the room. Nothing, so look under my rocker and
find a
snake under the right runner. Dead, thank goodness. Her gift to me.
----------------
A
couple of years later we move to Lancaster.
We still have our VW. I pack that little car with four high
backed Maple
kitchen chairs, a child’s three wheeled bicycle, and boxes of various
items. I
asked Johnny if he would take Mewsette down with him this trip as we
are ready
to move in. He said yes. She looks at him with that, “I HATE YOU”
expression. I
feel something Is to happen out of the norm but
can’t guess what. He takes off with one
unhappy cat. It’s an hour and 34 minutes away, roughly 90.2 miles away.
When
they get near Lancaster, he pulls into a gas station to fill up the bug. Mewsette jumps out of the car, stops long
enough to give Johnny a nasty look and marches away. He thinks she’s a
goner. It’s
summer and over 105 degrees or more.
I’m
pretty sure he won’t miss her.
When
we go back to check on our home that we’ve rented out. I’m sitting in
the
living room and Mewsette comes around the corner from the kitchen,
freezes and
then comes to me, talking, mewing. I pet her and ask the tenants about
her
being there.
They
tell me she showed up a couple of weeks after they had moved in. That
means she
made it through the dry and severely hot desert alone in about a week.
That
would be impossible, so I thought. Here in my lap is a true survivor. I
pet
her, say good bye, and leave her here, as she belongs at this home for
now.
I’ll be with her when we come back. I feel she knows that.
And
we are re-united when we move back home. A year later.
1971
---------------------Mewsette------------
Many
years later, we own a nice home and have four little girls. Our sweet,
nearly
feral cat has a boyfriend. He is a pure white, long haired gorgeous
Persian
cat. She has him comfortably living in the garage. She hunts food for
him,
feeds and pampers him. He is comfortable and happy. She has kittens
after a
while. One afternoon I hear an unearthly loud scream. I think it’s our
four-year-old in trouble, but she is
quietly playing in the family room. I rush into the garage and see the
white
male cat leaning against the wall, eyes as big as all of Chicago.
Across the
room and inside a barrel, Mewsette is sitting, where her kittens are
safe and
secure on top of our rags, and is one angry mama.
I
look into the barrel and face Mewsette. She looks up at me and begins
to tell
me the entire story of what has happened. She starts with a small
growling
sound, elevating it until it is loud enough to wake the dead. Her
expression is
finally pure anger. Even though she is a cat, it’s easy to see she is
truly
pissed off. Soon her voice is a scream I’ve never heard from her, or
any living
thing. She suddenly flies out of the
barrel and attacks the poor male that is across the room acting as if
he is
totally innocent of doing anything she would not approve of, but he is
frightened to death of her. She gets right in his face and tell him in
her
unbelievable deafening yell what has made her as mad as a hornet. His long hair flairs out,
he makes an Olympic style jump across the
room in one frantic move, and vanishes out the door. We never see him
again.
------------------------
Mewsette
hates my husband. One evening when we are playing cards with friends, I
notice
Mewsette at the entry to the living room. She has a look about her that
tells
me she is up to no good. Sure enough, my
husband says, “See that cat over there?” He points to Mewsette.
We
all look at her with the cocky body language, and a smart aleck
expression
while she lifts a paw and licks it.
“She
just peed on my leg.” He lifts his leg up to show us.
Oh,
yes, she isn’t fond of him at all.
------------Bones---------------
1971
Not
completely settled in our larger house, yet, and needing a fence around
our
yard; we get a dog and name her “Bones” getting her after the loss of
Maggie as
she watched over our girls and kept them safe. It was her job and she
took it
seriously. She was an Australian Shephard collie mix.
So
we got Bones, who is young. I’ve read it
would be wise to let her have a first heat then get her fixed because
it is
healthier, so I’ve read. We see a large black male hang around. She
runs up to
him. They act as if they have known each other forever. I don’t
recognize him
at all and can’t figure out where he came from. I’m familiar with the
dogs in
our area and haven’t a clue where he belongs. These two nuzzle each
other and
enjoy each other’s company. Soon he leaves.
Months later she gives birth to a darling healthy litter of 6
puppies.
Right after Bones gives birth, I open
the front door and see this gentle big black dog again at the entry.
Bones runs
to him, nuzzles him and brings each puppy to him where he greets them
with
licks and loves on them. I let them be, and watch this amazing display
of pure
love.
In
six weeks without any warning, Bones suffers complications from giving
birth. I
hadn’t seen her since breakfast, but I had errands to run and was gone
all day.
I come home to Bones motionless in her bed.
We couldn’t save her as we are too late. I go to the front door
where
the beautiful big black dog is standing with his head hanging low, he’s
so sad.
I bring each puppy to him. He nuzzles each one and in his own way, says
good
bye to them. I never see him again.
Ever. Our puppies find good homes. This haunting love story will stay
with me
forever.