Happy Fourth of July!
The cat is looking out the front window, chuttering at something. Chuttering, my eldest daughter taught me recently, is what cats are doing when they make small sounds while chattering their teeth when looking at possible victims like birds or squirrels.We have been held hostage by K.C. Quantum for about three years now. He wobbled out from under the shed one St. Patrick's Day, half blind and with a weak mew that the dog somehow heard and called my attention to.
"I want him," I explained to my husband who was saying "no, don't show him to me."
He was way too young to be away from his mother (I knew who she was and had actually chased her away just days before, not realizing what I was doing to her litter.) Feral cats live, get sick, and die in big numbers around here. Some folks feed them and others trap them. They turn up furtively sneaking through garden fences, hiding under day lilies, stalking in the woods, and gradually they get ragged and seedy looking and then they are gone. In spring there are usually a couple from last year and some new ones. The dogs bark and I chase them so they won't eat my birds in front of my eyes.
K.C.Q.'s mother is still alive, I notice -- a testament to her robust feral genes -- but she's getting very creaky and saggy.
My husband is allergic to cat dander, but he loves K.C. anyway. The only thing is we have all these rules! Because of dander, K.C. is not allowed in the bedroom or dressing room or bathroom or in the office in the basement. Because my husband loves him, he is not allowed to be near the dogs (fox terriers), nor is he allowed to go outside!
So we humans have all these rules about doors staying closed. We have rules about cats on furniture. We have rules about cat litter. I even try to brush the endless supply of fine hairs from this writhing creature's coat! (A bath? You've got to be kidding!)
It's not that easy, but we think we love it anyway. We do our best to mind the rules for the sake of this cat.
K.C. looks us right in the eye (unusual, I believe, for cats) probably because we nursed him from a nearly fetal stage to kittenhood with a tiny bottle of cat colostrum, and he thinks we are his mother. He accepts his captivity as if it's normal but he has a survivor's constitution that is beyond comparison. K.C. is the quickest cat I have ever met. He is named Quantum for a reason. Read about the quantum cat and you will see what I mean.In short, K.C. Quantum can be somewhere and not be somewhere at the same time-- like in the dining room and/or in the basement. He can disappear entirely while being right beneath your feet. He can appear from nowhere, attack your bare feet, and then disappear faster than a third baseman throws to first for a double play. He'll let us call him for a half day while watching us from some hiding corner we have not yet discovered. If we go into his bedroom (yes this cat has one!!) he materializes and asks for food.
He does have a job: chuttering at the window at things like birds and squirrels. We on the inside continue to be the captured ones.
Note: (K stands for kitty. C stands for cat. We call him, variously, "KC", "Case", "KCQ", "Q", and "Q-sy". Certainly not "kitty.")
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