Bringing Kitty Some Salmon

You can't buy their love, but maybe I can rent it for a few minutes. You see, cats are pretty much the most independent creatures on earth, if not elsewhere, as well. You call for them, they tell you to leave a message and they will get back to you; that sort of thing.

So when I visit my stepcat, I either bring some fish with me, or use the stash I keep in my friend’s fridge. It’s not clear to me if the cat is mine for those precious few minutes, or if it merely tolerates my presence because it can’t get to the fish all by itself.

But at least for a few moments, the two of us become … two. What did you expect, gratitude? Although, I must say, it does like to be held upside down in my arms, something its MamaCat can’t do.

When told I am on my way, usually just before I arrive, kitty will go to the dining room window and sit there waiting for me. I pull into the driveway a couple minutes later and see a round furry head with two pointy ears sticking up and I know I’m being welcomed. How does it know? My friend says, “Tom’s coming,” and the cat heads for the table next to the window.

I should feel honored, at least from the cat’s point of view. It could be thinking, “And exactly how is that supposed to concern me?” Maybe it’s the fish or, quite possibly, it’s just me; I don’t always show up with the goods. When we all get to the Next Life, when cats can, and will, talk, I’ll have to ask.