Laurie and Peachy I didn’t have cats growing up, just chickens and guppies. The guppies ate their babies, and the chickens eventually met sad ends. My first pet chicken, Peachy, died when his nighttime cage came down on his neck—he was trying to get out for a little more petting which he got every evening at the dinner table. The others, a pair named by my dad Egg (Eager Eagle) and Fuff (fearless Falcon) had to be given away. They caused disturbances in our suburban California neighborhood, crowing and flying over the fence into the neighbors’ yards, and the rooster sometimes attacked guests who came into the back yard wearing bright clothing. Or maybe it was because my dad died and we had to move far away. Egg and Fuff were sent to a nice farm nearby, or at least that’s what I was told. Anyway, that was the last of my pets until I met my future husband, Jim, in college.
Baker Commons, Rice University Jim and his roommate Larry lived in an upstairs room in Baker college at Rice University. Right before I got involved with Jim, a pregnant cat (named Mama Kitty) moved into their dorm room. Her pregnancy was likely the result of an encounter with Mr. Baker, the un-neutered male cat who wandered around the dorm and the grounds. Mr. Baker had a jowly face, the result of many skirmishes defended his territory as the feline master of the most historic and beautiful of the residential colleges on campus.
We enjoyed Mama Kitty and those kittens while we fell in love, and a year or two afterwards, we moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico and got the first of our own series of cats, a black male we named Kitty. Kitty enjoyed the same free masculine status as Mr. Baker. He had nightly catfights on Johnson Lane where we slept with the screenless windows open in the summer. Often the catfights came inside. I was not too far past the birth of our son, so I when the cats set up a howl in our living room I was jolted awake from much needed sleep. Eventually, Gabe, our newly mobile baby, started crawling after Kitty, catching his tail, lying on top of him, pinning him to the ground, squealing with delight. Kitty didn’t make a fuss about it. I suppose he had accepted his diminished status from Kitty Baby, to just plain bothersome cat.
We enjoyed Mama Kitty and those kittens while we fell in love, and a year or two afterwards, we moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico and got the first of our own series of cats, a black male we named Kitty. Kitty enjoyed the same free masculine status as Mr. Baker. He had nightly catfights on Johnson Lane where we slept with the screenless windows open in the summer. Often the catfights came inside. I was not too far past the birth of our son, so I when the cats set up a howl in our living room I was jolted awake from much needed sleep. Eventually, Gabe, our newly mobile baby, started crawling after Kitty, catching his tail, lying on top of him, pinning him to the ground, squealing with delight. Kitty didn’t make a fuss about it. I suppose he had accepted his diminished status from Kitty Baby, to just plain bothersome cat.
Pepper After we moved to West Manhattan Ave., we adopted Pepper and Mittens. We didn't yet believe in spaying and neutering, so Mittens was impregnated by her brother. Poor Mittens was so hungry during her pregnancy that she once jumped up on the table and licked the frosting off the Easter Cake. Their kittens were born in our bedroom closet. Missy, the runt of the litter, stayed with us too. She enjoyed nursing, long after her kittenhood, mainly on Mittens, her mother, but sometimes on Pepper.
When we moved to a new house on Gonzales Rd, Pepper got caught in a car engine and had his leg burned and mangled. He had to go to the vet for some expensive and extensive kitty surgery and a long recovery before he came home again. Mittens ran away that same night, obviously scared off by the trauma in a new and terrifying neighborhood. She showed up two month’s later on West Manhattan Ave., skinny and purring. She had crossed several miles of city, hunting, and finding water where she could, navigating by some magical kitty radar.
When we moved to a new house on Gonzales Rd, Pepper got caught in a car engine and had his leg burned and mangled. He had to go to the vet for some expensive and extensive kitty surgery and a long recovery before he came home again. Mittens ran away that same night, obviously scared off by the trauma in a new and terrifying neighborhood. She showed up two month’s later on West Manhattan Ave., skinny and purring. She had crossed several miles of city, hunting, and finding water where she could, navigating by some magical kitty radar.
Wild Bobcats Down on our luck, we sold that house and moved again to a small rent house on a busy street. After Mittens was hit by a car, she came home to die in the crawlspace under the house. We called to her for days. Finally, Pepper led us to her body. By then, we owned the lot where we eventually built our house and now live, so we buried Mittens in the orchard.
Now, that orchard houses other kitty graves. The cats died from varying causes, anything from old age to coyotes. Coyotes regularly prowl the neighborhood, coming down from higher ground by way of arroyos. I’ve seen them outside the bedroom, in the yard, on the driveway, and in arroyos. We also have deer who come down to eat our roses and drink from the neighbor’s bird bath. Last winter I saw two bobcats out the window.
Now, that orchard houses other kitty graves. The cats died from varying causes, anything from old age to coyotes. Coyotes regularly prowl the neighborhood, coming down from higher ground by way of arroyos. I’ve seen them outside the bedroom, in the yard, on the driveway, and in arroyos. We also have deer who come down to eat our roses and drink from the neighbor’s bird bath. Last winter I saw two bobcats out the window.
Dexter and Rufus on Jim's truck When adopting a cat, we believe in the interview process. We go down to the local animal shelter and take them to the special room to see how they behave. I have been known to respond to cats choosing me, as well. Our smaller cat, Rufus, definitely made a pitch to me every time I walked past his cage.
We got two black cats this time for safety sake. If out at night they are less visible to predators. Our friend, Barbara, Aamodt, a very special nonagenarian, says if she can keep a cat two years, she can keep him twenty. I hope that will be true with our beloved two.
Dexter is big, strong, lithe, and likeable. His companion, though not litter mate, step-brother, Rufus, is easily spooked, runs from most people, except me, whom he adores. He hunts quite well, but is definitely the submissive, and Dexter, the dominant cat. If Rufus is on my lap and Dexter comes anywhere near, Rufus will jump down and slide under the couch. Then Dexter jumps up for his petting.
We have erected a very nice cat fence around a portion of the back yard with small openings in several places, so the cats can run in and out. I call them in at night to feed them a treat--wet cat food from a can--and lock the kitty door. Then I feel safe to go to sleep, even if I hear a pack of coyotes howling.
However, Jim has confessed that Dexter asks to go out every night, and Jim usually lets him. Dexter is his favorite, after all.
You got to love a man who loves a cat.
We got two black cats this time for safety sake. If out at night they are less visible to predators. Our friend, Barbara, Aamodt, a very special nonagenarian, says if she can keep a cat two years, she can keep him twenty. I hope that will be true with our beloved two.
Dexter is big, strong, lithe, and likeable. His companion, though not litter mate, step-brother, Rufus, is easily spooked, runs from most people, except me, whom he adores. He hunts quite well, but is definitely the submissive, and Dexter, the dominant cat. If Rufus is on my lap and Dexter comes anywhere near, Rufus will jump down and slide under the couch. Then Dexter jumps up for his petting.
We have erected a very nice cat fence around a portion of the back yard with small openings in several places, so the cats can run in and out. I call them in at night to feed them a treat--wet cat food from a can--and lock the kitty door. Then I feel safe to go to sleep, even if I hear a pack of coyotes howling.
However, Jim has confessed that Dexter asks to go out every night, and Jim usually lets him. Dexter is his favorite, after all.
You got to love a man who loves a cat.
 Gabe and kitten Dexter  Dexter, posing |  Misha and Dancer  Sadie and Gramma interviewing chickens at the Aamodt farm  Rufus, aka "cute stuff" |
Some Treasured Cat facts:
- There are about 10 million more domesticated cats in the US than dogs.
- A cat’s normal body temperature is around 102 degrees. Hence the pleasant cuddle factor.
- Men and women are equally likely to own a cat.
- Cats sleep 70 percent of the time, or around 16 hours a day.
- Cats can jump up to five times their own height in a single bound. Some sources say seven times.
- Domesticated cats have been around since 3600BC. One source said 9000 BC.
- A cat’s purr is a form of self healing (as well as a sign of nervousness or contentment.) The frequency of a cat’s purr is the same as that at which muscles and bones repair themselves.
- The world’s richest cat inherited $13 million from his owner.
- Female cats are typically right-pawed while male cats are typically left-pawed. (Gabe’s friend Evan once did a school science fair project around right and left-paw-ed-ness in cats. )
- Cats are smarter than dogs, but dogs have a higher social IQ.
- “Cat people” are 11% more likely to be introverts
- Cats bring home their prey, not to share, but to teach their person, how to hunt.
- Cats dream.
- Cats dropped from a variety of heights can right themselves and land on their feet unharmed. This phenomenon has been studied by NASA as well as thousands of scientists and household experimenters. Thankfully, most of the experiments were conducted over a soft landing place, like a bed.
- August 8 is World Cat Day.
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