The Trouble With...(Pt. 7)

I always wanted a cat. It’s true; I’m a cat person. For all of you dog lovers don’t be offended. I love all animals. I just prefer cats. I think they are easier to take care of because they all but take care of themselves. As luck would have it, we came upon one that was part of a litter of neighborhood strays. They were living under our back porch and the neighbors’ front porch. The particular kitten I noticed happened to appear one evening after the sun had set. She only came out at night; it seems, because of her coloring. She was so tiny and frail and didn’t get as much to eat as the others because she was so different from them. Her coloring…was that of a Siamese.

I feel it necessary to tell you about her although I’m not sure if it’s relevant. Her coloring is chocolate point. She has very distinct Siamese features. But her hair is long. She is not Himalayan. It was at least two years before I discovered that she is Balinese, rather than Siamese. Since most people don’t know that breed, it’s easier to explain her features as Siamese. Balinese are the best. Siamese are a close second. When we brought her into the house, she was skittish about her surroundings and the rambunctious small children. Stephanie was almost three and Justin was six. They wanted to chase her around and play with her. By order of natural law, she wanted to hide from them and ‘survive.’ She spent most days finding new places to stay sight-unseen for hours until they would discover her newest spot. It took a week, but we finally named her Pendragon. It is King Arthur’s last name. We call her ‘Penny’ for short.

We had her for about a year when she disappeared. I noticed she hadn’t eaten her food so I asked if anyone had seen her. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but if children have done something wrong, they do not tell you. It’s a fact. I thought you should be told this in case you ever have kids. It’s very useful information. My kids looked all over the house. They searched in all of her usual hiding places. Then they looked in unusual hiding places. My husband, Jamie, and I also checked everywhere. The kids suggested that maybe she got out. Yet no one could remember a time when a door had been left open or find a faulty window screen. We looked all around the house, just in case. Since she wasn’t in the house, I put food outside hoping to lure her back. Surely she would return. For three days we continued to search. Still, there was nothing.

Then a time came when I was cleaning in the kids’ room. I was talking to them about dirty clothes and putting toys away when I heard the faintest of mews.

“What was that?” I asked. Both of my children froze. These beautiful, innocent, perfect little children couldn’t say or do anything. Again, another cry came. This time it was a little louder.

“I can hear Pendragon! Where is she?!” I started to panic. It had been three days! Obviously something was wrong.

“Just tell her, Justin.” Which was how Stephanie responded to any confrontation where she knew the jig was up.

“Tell me what?” Ever so slowly, yet not saying a word, Justin pointed to the Fisher Price Top-Loading Washing Machine that was at the foot of his bed. I dropped everything and ran to it.

“Me-ow!” Pendragon was aware of my presence and was much louder now. I tried to open it but to no avail. The lid was jammed down and couldn’t be opened. I screamed for Jamie who came running. I showed him where she was and he couldn’t open the lid, either. There had to be a way! We needed to pry it open. He ran for a large screwdriver and a crowbar, just in case.

While he was out, I tried to sound soothing to the cat. “It’s okay, Penny, we’re going get you out. It’ll just be a minute.”

Then turning to the kids, “What the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you say something? I could have got her out days ago! What’s wrong with you?” Then to the cat, calmly, “Mommy’s here. You’re okay now, sweetie. Shh, it’s alright.” Within minutes, Jamie used the screwdriver and fought with that lid to get it open. It wasn’t easy. When it finally gave, Pendragon came out of that washer like lava spewing forth from a volcano! And she ran like a cheetah directly to the litter box. She had held it in for three days! (Good kitty.)

When I calmed down… Okay I didn't calm down. I just demanded an explanation while I was still angry. And I was very angry. It seems there is a flaw with that infernal machine. When you want to capture the object of your desires (in this case, the kids wanted to keep the cat in their room), you need to be able to ‘secure’ that object. But the machine lid is designed to not latch or stay down. So, Pendragon could pop the lid open every time they tried to put her in it. “We just wanted her to stay,” they sighed.

“Well maybe she wouldn’t mind staying if you would let her go once in a while! What did you do to the lid?” Not a word was spoken. These two beautiful, innocent, perfect little children just looked at each other. They exchanged glances, then, Justin arose, and walked to the washer. I watched as he put the lid down, looked back at me, then turned and hopped up to sit on it. The lid gave just enough to jam down tight again. They fixed that flaw. I carried it out and we got rid of that washer. After all, the lid was faulty. It wouldn’t stay closed if you were trying to wash something…like a cat.