Black and White Beau-Re-Gard is On The Road Again

We all draw a lot, or spin a wheel or engage in some other game of chance that decides our fate.  That Momma decided to take me, when my two other brothers looked just like me, was the first random act of luck.

There were five hungry little kittens but it was the cries of Andy, The Brainiac that alerted a couple of Two Footed (the General Manager and his Assistant), that a Rescue must be arranged.  We were fished out of a deep and wide automotive parts bin, trundled in the office and passed to any takers. No one wanted or needed us. Kittens under four weeks are a lot of maintenance. Momma stepped up to the plate and volunteered to take 3 – she snapped up Diva Calico Gen and The Brainiac, Andy then looked at the three left.  It was like we were triplets, with our marking  so similar – thick black shiny fur, white toes with  a white star at our neck, a broad zigzag blaze of white down our bellies. 

Yet instantly I felt Momma’s inner spirit and knew, I had to make her realize, Two Footed or Four Footed, we were soul mates.  So sad to say but my other two  triplet brothers were not so fortunate.  They were taken in by the receptionist, who was very kind but after a week, or so, because of a volatile personal relationship, took them to SPCA, so their fate is unknown.  It satisfies me to think that they were adopted by Momma clones. Or maybe they were adopted by eccentric billionaires who feed them caviar from crystal bowls.

Life was  good.  At the very beginning, there was talk about finding us Forever Homes with  other families once we were eight weeks old. However as a willing adoptee came forward, Wonder Boy evaluated and eliminated all takers. They were too young, too old, too lazy, too shiftless.  No one fit the bill of prerequisites that Wonder Boy had crafted.  

Well, that was just dandy for us because, you know Momma, RIP Daddy and Wonder Boy had lots of experience with cats.  They were more than willing to let the cat in, let the cat out  (once we were spayed or neutered).  It made for a better adjusted, mentally happy cat who spent most of the out time on the front steps, in the back yard on comfy chairs or in the garage.  Then of course we would take a walk on the wild side when we crossed the street to go to the ravine, where we lay out in the sun,  on slabs of cement. We had full exposure to the sun, water to drink,  and even better, we could see the Colony Cats, hiding in the bushes.  Looking back, we were a hoity–toity threesome, with me having the most attitude because it was my job to keep The Diva and The Brainiac safe from all takers.

But at night, when we were all inside the house, I could revert to the baby kitty I had been when I first met Momma (albeit a scheming baby).  When she sat on the couch, trying to read the paper cover to cover, I would use my head as a battering ram and knock the paper out of Momma’s hands. That competed, I buried my head on her lap.  Purring contentedly, I would lay on my side, begging Momma to rub my belly, don’t stop, forget the paper, the news is too distressing to take seriously anyway. But Momma, you were mentioning, you had read, pets bring down the stress level in humans.  If only they could learn how to do that with their fellow felines.

I know, like a giant tiger in the jungle, or maybe just a bully, I gave, both Black and White Mao and Calico Mandu a life of terror, hiding under bushes, dive bombing them, while I emitted frightening snarls.  They were both small cats, who I easily could pounce on, gaining complete control. Looking back that was not a period of my life worthy of celebrating. Although I never actually fought them, there were no scratches or bite marks, just emotional scarring, shame on me.  I would never do that to Andy The Brainiac or Calico Gen or Phantom Charlie, or even Senorita Jakita.  I ♥’ed that puppy.

And like it begins, so it must end and after ten fun-filled years of life, in a matter of a short week, all of the sand, ran through my egg timer. With my Momma at my side, I grabbed the first blue cloud and sailed to heaven, into Daddy’s waiting arms.  A forgiving Mandu and Mao were standing on either side of Daddy, with flip charts and overheads. 

Apparently they have lots to teach me to ready me for my next life.  I’ll keep you posted.