When Buster and Rose went to live in their new home, Noodle the cat just didn't seem to know what to do with himself. When he lived with David and Staci, he had Charlie the Beagle to pester. And after he came to live here, he had first Barney the Cocker Spaniel, and after Barney went to Doggie Heaven, he had Buster and Rose.
Then in June of this past year, he found himself all alone all day long. I realize that cats spend a great deal of their lives asleep, but Noodle just didn't seem to like being alone. He adhered himself to me like Velcro from the time I came home from work in the evening until I left for work the next morning. He plunked himself between me and my computer monitor. He sat in the middle of every book I tried to read. I would find him sitting in the plastic box next to my sewing machine that held my quilt pieces while I was sewing. He fussed and yowled and carried on when I left for work in the morning until I couldn't hardly stand it. That boy knows how to work a guilt trip.
New toys didn't help. He would play for a short time and then back to my side he came. I left the TV or radio on for him during the day, trying to fool him into thinking someone was in the apartment with him, but he didn't like that either. I even tried catnip filled mice, hoping that some good kitty drugs might mellow him out. Nope. Not gonna happen. It was time for Noodle to have a buddy...besides me.
Now I didn't really want a kitten. I don't have the patience for litter box training. Nor do I want every surface in my apartment scratched or shredded with tiny little razor sharp claws. Kittens are cute, but they grow into cats who run up vet bills being neutered and declawed. Not good.
It was about that time that Duane mentioned to me that Kathy needed a home for her two cats. Duane and Kathy can't have pets at their apartment, and the cats weren't the best of friends with Kathy's daughter's dogs. As I inquired further about them, I found that both were female, both had been spayed, and one of them had been declawed. Those of you who know me well know what happened next.
Duane and Kathy brought Kiley to me first. She is a beautiful gray color with white sox. It was appropriate that she be the first to come live with me, as she has to be first in everything. Can't help it. Just the way she is. Has to be the first to eat when the food bowl is filled. Needs to be first in the newly cleaned litter box. You get the idea.
She was less than thrilled to come to her new home. She hid. First, behind the stove in the kitchen. Then she wedged herself between the wall and my bed. I have no idea how she managed that, as she weighed a good 20 pounds. Then came the day that I couldn't find her at all. She had disappeared, which is a really good trick for a cat her size in a small apartment. I emailed Duane and asked if he knew how it was possible to lose a 20 pound cat. He just laughed at me. I found her by accident the next day. I had given up looking for her, and sat down on the couch in my living room. Because of the animals, the couch is covered with an old comforter. It was when I sat down that I noticed this rather large lump on the couch, under the comforter. Yup. Kiley. She still goes to that spot now and then for her naps. She doesn't hide any more, but spends her time supervising me in whatever chores I am doing around the house. She is pretty good at it, too.
Kizzie arrived a week later. She has the most unusual markings of any cat I have ever seen. Her body is mainly a tortoise shell color, but she has one orange striped front leg and a stripe of orange on her nose, along with scattered white markings.
Kizzie didn't spend as much time hiding as did Kiley. I think that was probably because Kizzie outweighed Kiley by a good 4 or 5 pounds. There was no place large enough for her to hide, except beneath a chair or behind the couch. So when she tried to hide, she would end up with her head hidden in a corner and her massive body hanging out from her hiding spot. It was as though she figured if she couldn't see me, I probably couldn't see her. I let her hold onto that thought for a couple of days until she decided that she didn't want to play that game any more.
Kizzie is way too heavy to jump up any higher than the seat of a chair, so she spends time on the bedroom chair or on one of the kitchen chairs. The rest of the time she patrols at floor level, making sure that all is well within her world. There came the day when I couldn't find her, and after searching, discovered her napping in the dirty clothes basket behind the bathroom door. Why she loves this place to sleep, I have no idea, but she gets really testy when I do laundry and there is nothing soft and cushy in the basket for her to lay on.
So this is how I became the eccentric cat lady. Starla teases me that I will become one of those old women who has dozens of cats. You know the ones. They appear on the nightly news now and again. People shake their heads and wonder aloud how that nice old lady wound up crazy enough to have that many cats.
But I think that three are plenty for me. They get along with a minimum of hissing and growling. There has been bloodshed only once when Kiley, for reasons known only to her, bit Kizzie on the butt. Every once in a while, it seems that they all have a burst of energy at the same time, and will run like mad from one end of the apartment to the other, and back again. Several times. Noodle is usually in the lead, with Kiley right on his tail. Kizzie gets into the game as well, waddling along behind as fast as she can.
So Noodle now has friends. He has company while I am at work, and he doesn't feel the need to attach himself to me when I get home. And they are company for me. I don't have to take them out for a walk when the temperature is below zero. They don't bark and annoy the neighbors. And most important, they make me laugh. Out loud, sometimes. I can live with being the eccentric cat lady for that reason alone.
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