Tiger Cat
Terry Pratchett has written, “In ancient times, cats were worshiped as gods; they have not forgotten this.” A cat rules in my home which proves this statement is true.
This cat came to my home one spring day about six years ago. I immediately christened him “Tiger” because he was hungry, skinny and aggressive. At that time I had laid out food for another cat I fed and Tiger would not let him eat; he was starving. You know what happened – I fed him. And the rest you know – he stayed.
He had no identification on him, so I waited a few days before taking him to a vet, wanting to learn if he was a run-away and some family missed him. Nobody responded. So, fortunately, the vet said he was in good health, just really skinny. Tiger received all the shots he needed to stay healthy and the vet “fixed” him so he can’t make any more cats.
It did not take him long to organize the household to his liking. When the weather is warm, I became his doorman. In the morning, he likes to eat a short snack, go outside for half-an-hour or so, come in, snack, go back outside until about noon. Then it is time for his first nap of the day. In winter, he will test the outdoors. If it is too cold, he will sleep. He has a variety of favorite soft-spots, so I never know exactly where he is in the house when he decides to nap.
He does not “meow” like regular cats. He makes all kinds of scratchy, squeaky sounds to communicate, and believe it or not, I am beginning to understand him. For example, he obviously does not like for me to take a shower. He sits outside the bath tub and the noise he makes sounds like he is scolding me. I can tell when he thinks I should put food in his dish. He has a whine prepared when he wants me to open a door. He also doesn’t like me sitting at my computer. He sits close and scolds until I get up and follow him to where he thinks I should be.
One act he does completely amazes me: I often sit at the breakfast bar in my home reading, knitting or working one of the four puzzles in the paper. If he sees me doing this no matter where he is, he will jump up on the bar and plop his body (usually he rear end) right on top of whatever I am doing. And then he turns his head and won’t even look at me! When I try to move him, he squeals and becomes dead weight. Our son says all cats do this to receive attention. Probably so, but I think there might be another motive: “I’m just reminding you that I am the one in charge.”
Now I know I have spoiled him, catered to him, and “allowed” him to be a god. He is a nuisance, an expense, and a bother. But he purrs a lot; he’s company; and he has a spark life that makes him a gift from God.