First thing
I saw when I opened up the curtains at the patio doors - my guardian cats.
I’m not
sure how many I have. There’s at least two, possibly three.
Most people
fall into two cat categories. One camp loves and adores cats. They give them
names like Fou Fou, Pretty Kitty, and Mrs. Twiggybottom. They spend hundreds of
dollars on the perfect cat food, diamond tiaras with matching collars, and
plush beds with down comforters made from ducks raised in hermetically sealed
rooms and fed on organically grown bird seed. They will make the hard and responsible
choice of limiting themselves to two, or they will go all out and have a dozen
or more earning them the title of “crazy cat lady” even if they are male.
The other
camp sees cats as the devil incarnate. They plot elaborate schemes to divest
themselves of the dangerous psychopaths that murder birds and flowers. They
enact laws to, if not make cats illegal, at least make them illegal to be seen
by the public. They set traps to capture them. They hunt them down with hoses
and bb guns which they wish were automatic rifles. They throw old shoes and tin
cans at them. They keep records on whiteboards on how many cats they have
brought down.
I fall into
neither. I like cats, yet, I have made the unpopular choice as a middle aged
single woman living alone, to not own any kind of pet. I’ve raised seven kids.
I no longer want to be responsible.
I see cats as working animals, heroes really,
for they help to control the rodent population. Sure a few birds might be lost
in the process, but it’s a small price to pay for the amounts of rodents that
can over run a property. I don’t like rodents and really do believe they are the
devil incarnate.
I have
chosen not to get too close to my guardian cats. I don’t know who they belong
to or where they live, but if they are keeping rodents from my property, then
they are welcome to drop by. I don’t
want to be friends with them, for they might decide to bring me presents. I do
not want presents from cats. You have to smile and pretend you like their
presents.
I have
chosen not to feed them. If they’re too full they might not go after the
rodents.
Instead
they keep their distance and I keep mine. They are welcome to wander around my
yard, sleep on my back porch, and ensure that no rodent comes near my domain.
However no
matter how well they tap dance, make sorrowful eyes, or play the “I’m so cute”
game, they will not be coming into my house. They might decide to move in and
bring their treasures.
And I
really don’t want cat treasures.
I also
noticed, while I was gone ending my old life, that the ivy decided to take over
the house. It’s scary really. A rocker I had put out on the back porch is being
ensnared by the ivy after only five weeks. It has wound its tentacles around it
like a horror movie.
I also
worry that the ivy is a hide out for rodents. I don’t want them dropping from
the pear tree, or surprising me with bazookas from the bushes. They may have a
maze of tunnels where they run a smuggling operation. If the guardian cats
start disappearing, then I know who to suspect. I’m not brave enough to go
after them.
I might
have to go out there with a machete and fight the ivy before it ensnares me and
squeezes the life out of me.
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