Cats In The Belfry

We have had cats before. When Rachel and I were first married, a friend of a friend who raised Siamese cats found herself with an unwanted litter. It seems that Poppa had broken through a screen door to get at Mama, and the resultant issue was not pure. So she wanted to divest herself of these half pure-bred Siamese, half who-knows cats. Thus we came to live with Terrance, named for T. H. White. When we lived in the woods in Maine the years following graduation from Brandeis, the cat would go for walks with me through the woods. If the grass and underbrush got too thick, she would hop up on my shoulder and ride there until it was easier for her to walk. She lived with us during the Years In The Bus, when we were graduate students in Michigan, sleeping between us when the temperature fell below zero, waking up to a frozen water dish without complaint, only inquiry.
Back in Maine again, now in our first house in Brunswick, she suffered through the arrival first of Martin, and five years later, Louis. Never afraid of even the most gigantic people, she never liked children--ours or anyone else's.
When we went to China in 1992, we prevailed on our friend Deb to take her in while we were gone. We could have gotten her into China but I was afraid she might become lost or eaten there, and thought she would be safer in Brunswick. She did very well at Deb's house, and in fact the two of them bonded to the extent that prior to our return at the end of 1993, Deb asked if Terrance might not stay with her rather than return to Chez Connelly. We had gone to China with two children and were coming back with three, and so decided that everyone concerned would be happier that way, we decided to let Terrance stay with Deb.
We visited her now and again as she became a senior cat, and in time she died, having lived 19 years. She was one of the smartest cats I have ever known, and a pleasant companion. We had a great time together.
Well, somehow, as the years passed, I found myself developing an allergy to cats. This, combined with our frequent travel and the growing number of children underfoot led to our not getting any replacement cat. Our life was hectic enough, and if I went into a house where a cat resided, I would start sniffling within forty minutes, whether the cat was in and amongst us or hiding in the basement.
Then, two or three years ago, we were staying at our friend's house in Washington, D.C. and I awoke one morning with a cat on my chest and I suddenly realized we had been in the house for two days with nary a sniffle! This cat was no ordinary cat, but rather a mutant bit of biological waste, the product of a crazed veterinarian who was trying to breed cats that resembled the south Florida panther. Those that measured up were kept and rebred and those that did not were sold off fairly cheaply. This cat was one of the cheapies that didn't measure up. In a moment the possibility of having cats once again was thrust upon us.
We didn't act on that possibility immediately, as we still had the children and we were still traveling a good deal. But earlier this year, those realities were pushed aside and we determined to Try Cats Again. After waiting for the vet to have some biowaste to get rid of, and coincident with my Dad's planned trip to visit us, a pair of mutant cats were acquired with the aid of our friend (who now has three of them, including one "good" one) and driven up from Maryland by Dad and his pal Nancy, to the delight of all the children, and your blogger.
The cats are teeny tiny hairy balls of excitableness and fun-- the children vie for turns patting them, having them in their bedroom at night, dangling things for them to bat at, chase and chew. They play together, fight with one another, eat at the same time, and sleep curled around each other. Massively fun, as kittens tend to be, we are very happy to have them aboard, even if it does increase the level of domestic chaos slightly. But there is something comforting in having a cat sit on one's lap, something strangely pleasurable having a kitten leaping at the sheets over one's toes, something humorous in a cat's inclination to chase a pencil across a room or knock itself off a cardboard box.
Oh, and one other thing. The cats have been with us a full week now, and nary a sniffle from yours t. For that as well as all the happiness we get from having them around, we rejoice and say Amen.