Ben Madilynn
Our neighbor called the other day with news both good and bad. The good news, in fact, was equivalent to the old, to wit:
“There is a cat with four kittens in the backyard.”
Well, that cuts it. All leaves are cancelled, and a new administration is established:
A. There are five new feline-Americans out there and they probably need some medical care.
B. Natalie and I both love cats and kittens.
C. But Natalie is utterly besotted. She purchased two bags of kitten food and each day swipes Webster’s breakfast for the mother cat, a graceful young calico.
D. I believe that some human neighborhood residents are distinctly un-besotted. Cats, one reads, are subversive and sneaky and, unlike the large dog, aka America’s Pet, will lead our children into alternate governments and disrespectful lifestyles.
Meanwhile, mother and kittens were stationed in a grassy space next to Shawnee’s garage and Natalie was feeding them there. Only this morning, I was sort of sleeping when Natalie woke me with frantic news. “She is moving the kittens! Get out there!”
I don’t think I was being unreasonable when I asked why. I didn’t think a mother cat would appoint me to her board of advisors, and she would move her small household whenever and wherever she wished.
As it was, the destination of choice was beneath our impenetrable freeze-proof fig tree, ficus kelvinatorus. Mother and kittens seem to implicitly trust Natalie, and by extension, me. Their eyes don’t look so great, so Natalie used a cotton ball soaked in warm water (plus a bit of salt) to wipe the kitten yuck off their faces. Their mother approved, and lay in regal splendor watching us.
After months off the job, Natalie has resumed her cat-feeding activities. Of the multifarious species of cat and kitten food, I know that each one is meant for a different feeding station, but I don’t know which one is which, and I regret to report that I don’t care much, for my beloved’s twice-daily feeding schedule is complex and unknowable.
Somewhere a tomcat of irresistible physique and style is on a fishing trip with his bros. They think we are crazy, and so do I.
Mark Kinsler, kinsler33@gmail.com, lives with Natalie and a pair of suddenly-resentful alley cats in a seriously strange but happy little 19th century house in Lancaster. They are beautiful kittens.
