The new cat and what became of it.

 

The new cat.

“The smallest feline is a masterpiece” Leonardo Da Vinci.

I wrote this piece three years ago, now Marlie is an adult.

Marlie - 6 months old with present for us.

I’d forgotten what it was like to have a kitten in the house. Not too long ago our most beloved Tiddles passed away after 18 years of servitude as protector, pal and valued family member. We didn’t know if we could ever replace him, but he left such a hole in our everyday home life that we decided to look for another cat to help heal the loss. After much consultation about what was the most respectful mourning period and then much researching and traveling meeting new hopeful additions, we finally decided on an eight-week-old tortoiseshell tabby from the RSPCA, but it was more of a case of the kitten choosing my wife.

The naming process took just as long and after many democratically held secret ballots, it was decided to call it what mum wanted. So now we had Marlie, a female kitten and new companion to Gracie, our two-year-old Cavoodle.

Then the stark reality set in. Kittens are cute, fluffy, and weigh almost nothing but I can see all the benefits of getting an older rescue cat now. I don’t remember kitten’s claws being so sharp, or that you had to peel them off like Velcro from any fabric surface that hung near the floor. Or, that they bounce around faster than those parkour guys who jump stairs and balconies like they’re Spiderman.

For example, I was at my desk typing and I felt something land on my shoulder then felt the weird contrasting feelings of something wonderfully soft on my neck and the snake-like fang penetration of pain in my shoulder. Somehow, the kitten had leaped/ climbed/transported over ten times its own height from the floor to my shoulder to see what I was doing. I understand how curiosity can kill the cat, it took all my self-control to avoid the sheer reflex action and nearly sending the poor thing flying.

Kittens have nature's best self-defense mechanism. No matter what they do, what they destroy or maim. They only need to look at you or start playing with anything, a ball, a feather, a bug, your sock and your heart melts.

At least the dog and cat bonded quickly and I look forward to another 18 years of friendship, scratched furniture and being ignored every time I enter a room.

We still miss Tiddles but welcome to the family Marlie.

Postscript:

Well, the cute kitten grew up to be an arsehole.

She shows afection to everything and everyone by biting or scratching deep burrows in their exposed skin.

Marlie is a beautiful cat to look at. Her mother must have been a pedigree, who got raped by a feral tomcat.

But the dog and her get along so that's one thing.

Pity she kills anything that enteres the backyard, be in by air, tree or on foot.

Origin article appeared in the BBCN June 2018 edition