This is another post in an occasional series from my dear nonagenarian Aunt Doris.
A dog will always greet you with eyes glazed with love, and a tail that nearly wags itself off.
A cat merely tolerates you.
My family has always loved cats; I’ve had some great ones too.
The one I remember fondly was an orange colored cat named Taffy.
Every afternoon, when school was in session, he’d go down to the corner and wait for the school bus. Then, after my son got off the bus, they’d walk home together. (I’ll never know how Taffy timed it.)
One particular morning my son came into the kitchen. “Mum, there’s someone in the bathroom.”
“Oh, Kevin, don’t be daft!” I said.
I figured that was impossible because we were the only ones home – but I went back to take a look anyways.
As I approached the bathroom I noticed the door was slightly ajar.
So I carefully looked in and couldn’t believe what I saw. Taffy was perched on the toilet seat and going potty! The cat then looked up at me as if to say, “Do you mind?”
That cat always used the bathroom to go potty.
My son has his own family now and, yes, they have a cat. The cat du jour is Chester.
Chester is an odd one. He treats humans with disdain. He also never answers when you call him, unless it’s for his meal.
He often comes in the living room when there’s company, but he sits with his back to you – and if you get too near, he’ll usually snarl and punch you with a clenched paw.
We like making excuses for Chester. Maybe he’s deaf, or was picked on as kitten by the rest of his litter.
As for me, I don’t think he’s all there.
One night I was lying in bed, almost asleep, when it finally came to me. He doesn’t like his name!
I think it’s been that way ever since one member of my family (naming no names) called him “Chesticles” and we all laughed.
No, Chester really should have been named Bruno, Guido or Rocky.
He does allow my son to pick him up, but he goes Klingon on anyone else if they get too near.
My grandson and his wife have two of the most charming cats. They’re so lovable!
So the cat dynasty carries on, even though Chester looks at us with that unblinking gaze that says, “Who are you and what do you want?”
But we still all love him.
Once in a while we even hear a contented purr from him – just not very often.
Until next time … Love, Aunt Doris.