By Darlys Murray
Too old... both of us.
For the first time in fifty years no cat owned me. The two siblings I had raised from unweaned kittens had both crossed the Rainbow bridge within three months. At age 89, I declared I wouldn't get another cat, since I felt my life span was too unpredictable to allow one to become attached, then have to find another home. My daughter, Colleen, and her husband, Ed, disagreed, suggesting they become godparents to a new cat and pledge to take it over should I not be able to take care of it. That weekend, Colleen checked out the rescue cats at Petco. When she told the volunteer she was looking for an older cat, the lady was delighted until Colleen mentioned my age. However, with the godparents arrangement explained, she said she already knew the cat we should meet. Several days later, we drove to Petco where the volunteer was making a special trip to bring the candidate, a very amply proportioned feline maiden lady who had been so unhappy among the other shelter cats that she had been pulling out her hair. "Lady" was calm and we seemed compatible.
When we arrived home, Colleen let the cat out of the carrier and I expected her to scuttle into hiding for hours, or even days. Not this gal. She calmly circled the living room and after a thorough inspection, settled on my lap, indicating, "This will do."
Within a week or two I noticed she drank excessively as well as urinated more than any cat I'd had. Suspicious of diabetes, I took her in for testing. My fears were confirmed. The Vet was concerned whether I realized the commitment I would be making as well as to my ability to give shots, keep schedules, etc. Colleen reassured him that I had been the sitter, in the past, for a diabetic cat of hers, and that I was capable of both the commitment and care.
It has been a match made in heaven. Re-christened "Freowlein," she is totally a people cat. Visitors had better be cat people, as she doesn't take "no" for an answer. Our relationship is relaxed and casual. She doesn't get underfoot with me. If I have been gone a few hours and return, she may open one eye, yawn and go back to sleep. She does appreciate an ample lap, and for that I qualify. She is, of course, super friendly at mealtime and enjoys having a warm body next to her at night. With men, however, Freow is a hussy and a flirt. She has no interest in other cats, but let Ed (or any other man) walk in and she becomes Miss Seductive. She twines about his ankles, arches under his petting, and in every way shows her admiration of the male homo sapiens.
I recently realized that Freowlein may eventually earn at least part of her keep as a watch-cat. There has been no occurrence yet to prove her worth, but I have observed that she is very alert to any potential intrusion. If Colleen or Robert (my tenant) are coming up the driveway, Freow raises her head and stiffens to attention long before they actually arrive. When they do come in, she curls in and out around their ankles and utters welcoming sounds that differ from any of her normal verbalizations. Any visitor (even female), be it friend, repair man, or tax collector, gets the same greeting. Hence, I reason, should someone break in during the night, I can count on Freow loudly greeting him, or her, with the sounds I'd recognize, meanwhile tangling the intruder's feet as she twines around them in semi-darkness, giving me time to hit the alert button on my Lifeline pendant and summon the police, who will find the bewildered potential burglar prone, with Freowlein happily nuzzling him to encourage being petted.
We have been a blessing to each other for three years now, and both send thanks to the rescue people who care enough to match needy pets to loving homes.