AND THEN THERE ARE CATS

I was recently invited to a party where the host’s little French bulldog greeted me at the door with a few enthusiastic yips and the wagging of her little behind.  Although throughout the evening, she barked at some other guests, it was the last time she vocalized at me. Rather, she spent much of the evening sitting near me on the sofa, or on my feet under the dining room table. For some unfathomable reason, I seem to have a calming effect on animals. I don’t soak my feet in beef bullion, nor do I wear chicken liver eau de cologne.

Another friend has an old, part-chow-part-imagination, dog with a ferocious growl, but she too, only wags her tail when she sees me, and invariably sits near me throughout the evening.

When I hike in the mountains, the deer glance my way, and then continue to nibble on plants while I sing to them. I can get close enough to touch them, should I so choose, but I must admit that the music lovers tend to distance themselves.

One day a Road Runner (bird) ran over my foot on his way to a lizard lunch, but he wasn’t afraid of me. Bull feathers! He didn’t even know I was there--- my Rodney Dangerfield moment.  My favorite bird encounter was with the little “What’s It”, who sat in a tree and chirped without pause. When he spied me, he flew to a branch close to my head and kept right on singing. I finally walked away when he began to sound too much like my teakettle.

Cats, of course, either accept you, or they don’t. It took awhile for my son’s cat, Radar to welcome me into the family. When I first met him, he ran behind the sofa and peeked out from time to time---giving me the once over. Soon, he discovered my black coat, which I had tossed on a chair, and it became both his property and cat hair depository.

The first time I was left alone with that cat, he looked at me, ran around the apartment, climbed and jumped on everything he wasn’t supposed to, and finally took a running leap, skid across the dining room table, tumbled off, taking the tablecloth with him. He untangled himself and meowed, “Now, I guess you know who’s boss around here,” as he rubbed against my leg.

I didn’t tell anyone about his antics, because I was afraid he’d take out a contract on my life. That’s one big cat! We’ve been friends ever since.  Occasionally, he will sniff my hair to check out if I washed it with catnip. I guess it’s a guy thing.

Esther Blumenfeld (“A cat always leaves a mark upon a friend”) Spanish proverb.