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It Was Raining Cats

You may remember that I woke a few days ago with a sharp attack of euphoria. In fact, I don't remember a sharper. This morning, however, the sharp attack that woke me involved scimitars and sabers. Actually, scimitar-curved claws and saber-sharp fangs. 

It was the foster kitten, Eddy, who had been working on his stalking skills and killer instinct. Unfortunately, he's hanging at the corner with Abbie Hoffman, a bad influence if ever. No, not that A. Hoffman! I refer to the cat dressed in formal wear and known on the street as Abracadabra.


Eddy (L) and Lucy (R)

It was Eddy, you will remember, who got me in the fleshy part of the toe, causing me to shoot six inches off the mattress. Not an easy feat when starting from the prone position. My convulsions shook him loose but left him giving me the eye while digging his front paws into the duvet with an expression on his map like that of a Baptist deacon rebuking sin.


"Poopsie," I said. No response.

"Ms Wonder," I said louder.

"Whumpf?" came the muffled response from nearby.

"Will you please capture your cat?" I said.

"What?" she said. It occurred to me that she wasn't demonstrating her commitment to our vows to stand by and summon the U. S. Marines for aid and comfort in times of trial.

"Eddy is what I mean. Will you get him off me!"

"I'm asleep," she said.

I thought about pointing out that technically she was not asleep but decided to give it a miss. At that moment I realized that Eddy's behavior had attracted the attention of his sister, Lucy, who is an accomplished little foot ninja in her own right.

"Do you have a towel handy?"

Wonder stirred from the depths of the bedding, raised her head, and asked, "Why would I have a towel?"

"It's just that I'm remembering the time you captured another foster kitten in that you-can't-do-that-here manner by using a towel in the way some Roman gladiators used a fishing net. Remember?"

"I don't have a towel," she said. "And it wasn't a fishing net."

And so there I was, Heir of the Ages, one of the highest expressions of life on earth, and I was being chivvied by one of the lessor. I
f you are a member of the Inner Circle, you will no doubt recognize this as another example of a tiger living like a goat. I mean where is the benefit of being human when you're constantly being harassed by kittens?

It occurred to me that prompt steps through the proper channels were called for. But it's never that easy, is it? I remember something from my senior year in high school--a Shakespeare play I'm sure, that went something like this:

Between the first thought of doing something dreadful and the actual doing of it (some guff about the genius and mortal instruments), there is often a revolt in the kingdom or words to that effect.

Well, that's where I found myself. My genius, if I can call it that, knew what had to be done, but my arms were not happy about it. I wonder if the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak applies here? Quite possibly, but I'm jumping the rails again.

What I'm trying to say is that it wasn't easy to act. I'd rather go back to sleep. But after those moments of hesitation,  I threw the coverlets back, which I might mention caused it to rain cats. It was a sight to see, let me tell you. 

I gathered Eddy as he turned to flee and I decanted him into the Saigon room for safekeeping.

"That cat should be bedded in the stables," I said to Ms Wonder. "You and I can take care of ourselves but consider what might happen if one of the cleaning crew, exhausted from working her two jobs each day, stretched out on the bed to shut her eyes for a spell. I don't like to dwell on the aftermath, do you?"

But Ms Wonder wasn't in sight. I heard the bathroom door close and soon after the sound of running water, similar to a waterfall filled the silence.

Uma Maya the brindled little Empress of Chatsford was surely in the sale de bains with Wonder. Eddy was safely confined to the Saigon room. Lucy was probably hiding underneath the bed. 

Beignet, the ginger and white ragamuffin, and Sagi, the caramel-colored tabby, were at my feet looking up at me to ask, what next? Abbie was absent but I expected he could be found in his usual spot for this time of morning, atop the kitchen cabinets. Suddenly I was acutely aware of the tie that binds and the words of a close friend who often says, "The family we choose is the most pleasing."

Looking down at the two cats sitting at my feet I said, "Stand by to counsel and advise." Fortunately for me, they have all provided just what I needed in the fullness of time.