Sunday, January 31, 2010

Asia the big-footed cat

She lets loose all the horses
When the corporal is asleep
And he wakes to find the fire’s dead
And arrows in his hats
And Davy Crockett rides around
And says it’s cool for cats
Squeeze, "Cool for Cats" 1989
We are Siamese if you please
We are Siamese if you don't please
We are from a residence of Siam
There is no finer cat than I am
Peggy Lee and Sonny Burke "The Siamese Cat Song" 1955
This is Asia. And no, she's not MY cat. She's a New York cat though and she belongs to a friend of mine, Carol One.

Carol responded to my None of my cats are all like that story with a story of her own.

And here it is.

After visiting my daughter in California and mingling with her household comprising of several humans, two cats, thirty doves and two horses my maternal needs took over. Or was it simply insanity?

I visited the ASPA on the Upper East Side in search of a cat. A visit to the White House is less invasive than visiting the ASPA cat adoption center.

I was touring the community of reclining, sleeping, bored cats when I felt that I was being watched by eyes other than those of the usual commoners.

When I asked the attendant if she would get the cat down from its perch she looked at me with fear and said "you do not want that cat."

I assured her that I did and as she reached for him he attacked her. Well I felt this was a challenge, or that I owed her. He was a beautiful part Siamese. His weapons of destruction were seven toes on each foot up front with sharp toe nails intact.

Having chosen my cat, the next part of the adoption entailed me agreeing to never leave my cat alone and promising to feed him only healthy food

Next I had to provide the names of people who would be character references. I was told these people WOULD be interviewed, either by phone or in person.

My brother was the only one who answered my phone calls and in spite of what he said about me they allowed the adoption.

I took my wild creature home, released him and he slowly inspected each room. He returned and looked up at me and said with his blue eyes, "This will do."

As they say, "no good deed go unpunished". I found myself explaining to friends and family for at least one year that the bloody scratches that cover my arms and legs from my adopted pet were part of the process I accepted by choosing this very smart, active, playful puppy like creature.

I believe I eventually changed his attitude to the human race or maybe I only adjusted to his.

The attacks stopped and he now trusts me, which proves, he is only a cat.

Carol One
Manhattan
February 2010.

2 comments:

Boggy said...

You are a brave and dedicated soul. Congratulations on your adoption. Does the cat now have a name?

Boggy said...

How dumb of me, Asia, of course.

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