Free Write - Cats and cats

From the day I fouled the earth until the present, I have been surrounded by cats, most of them with human names. My family and I have never owned a dog, which seems very strange by most American standards. I don’t know if this is because my family and I are lazy and we like to get animals which are independent and self-sufficient, such as a cat, or if we simply can’t stand some of their more predominant qualities, such as their smell, constant need for attention, inability to clean up their own feces, insatiable hunger for “human food,” and incessant licking.

My parents owned a kitten when I was just born. He must have been a highly-prized cat because just before my first birthday he was stolen by a neighbor. Soon after, my parents brought home a nice orange kitten, which we named Zach, not Zack, we’re Christian. He was a playful cat and filled my early childhood years with love and laughter. One of our favorite games was called Balcony. I would heft him over to the railing of the balcony and try to throw him off the second floor of our house. Zach’s goal was to try and scratch me enough so the blood loss would cause me to fall unconscious before I could throw him off. We traded off wins for a while until finally he told me he didn’t want to play the game anymore by giving me a cut so bad I needed several stitches. Our days were numbered, however. He hadn’t been neutered yet and when we took him to be “fixed,” the anesthesia took his life. It was hard for me to lose my best friend, but I found solace by placing all the blame on my mother who found this veterinarian of ill-repute and made the appointment with him.

After soon time had passed and our family had properly grieved we found a long-haired calico, which we named Tiffany. Tiffany’s life was probably one for the history books. She got to take over four plane trips, fall out of a six story hotel room, take at least 7 or 8 dips in a hot tub, get run over by a car, resulting in the loss of half her tail and several broken bones, go missing for about 3 weeks, eat about 30 rabbits, 100 birds and numerous mice, too many to count. She led a good life. Unfortunately, along with all the animals she caught, she also caught cancer when she was about 18 years old. I was fortunate enough to be with her when she had to be put to sleep. I was very saddened and dismayed when she died, to see a cat that was so full of life and strength to be brought down by a small needle.

During Tiffany’s reign I found a little orange tabby scrapper, which we named Charlie, or as my brother would spell it – Chay R Lee Y. His is the closest we’ve ever gotten to owning a dog. He’s been taught several tricks including sit, stay, up and speak, he loves his belly scratched and he scratches at the door on his hind legs when he wants to be let inside the house. He continues to live, but he recently became bored with his fur and began licking it off.

Currently I own another orange tabby cat named Chinook. I fear he may be doomed to lead just a plain, average cat life with a name like that, which is far from resembling any human name, but there may be some hope for him yet. He breaks all of our drinking glasses and bites our faces while we sleep. I sometimes believe he is Zach reborn and he is carrying out his revenge for throwing him off the balcony so many times. Although I’ve never owned a dog, I really don’t think I’m missing out on anything.