Hey everyone. I hope everyone knows me by now. I am Maverick, and this is my column “Cat Tales.” I wasn’t going to write for a few more days, but I have got to get this off my chest.
I still can’t believe what happened. I have mixed emotions about it. On the one hand, I feel awful, but on the other hand, I find myself having cat giggles over it. When I giggle, it’s a meow but with a hiccup sound like me-hiccup-ow. It’s a disconcerting sound to a human. Most humans don’t realize that cats have a sense of humor. Animals are a lot like humans. We hurt, smile, laugh, cry, and love. I have all those emotions in me. But the other night, I was trying so hard to be serious when I got a case of cat giggles, and it was at a very inappropriate time. So I hid under the dining room table, trying to contain myself.
My mom has been having some health issues, and lately, she has been going to different doctor appointments. One doctor she sees is in town, but the others are in different towns. When she leaves for an appointment, she puts me in the bedroom. I have everything in there that I need, but I hate seeing her go and be left all alone. I had told you previously that I had two brothers, but now that they have passed on I am all alone for the first time. I cling to my mom a lot. When she leaves and puts me in the bedroom, I sleep until she comes home. It’s how I get through being alone like that. That means I’m awake in the night. And therein lies the problem.
Two nights ago, my mom had to take a pill because her back spasms were really bad. She only takes them occasionally, and only at night because they make her sleepy. I need a lot of attention, and even though when she went to bed, I crawled in beside her and snuggled, I was wide awake later on. I thought I’d just get up and play in the other room. My mom has this Hoosier cabinet that she and a friend refinished years ago. She has cute old stuff on it, and I love looking at all of it. Sometimes, I move things around on it, and sometimes I knock things off too. I knock things off because I want her to get up and play with me. I have found from past experience that if I make enough noise, she gets up. Sometimes, she’s grumpy when I wake her up, but I know she loves me.
She has these two old milk bottles on the cabinet. They’re the kind with thick glass that doesn’t break easily. Thank God! They’re little bottles, and she told me that cream came in them. And that in the olden days, a milkman went to people’s houses and put the milk bottles into a tin box. Can you imagine having someone deliver milk like that? That’s every cat’s dream, having it sit outside the front door. I say, bring back the olden days.
I kept knocking over the bottles, so she hid them behind a heavy crock on the cabinet. I love a challenge, and I’m a curious cat, so I moved the picnic basket that sat next to the crock, and then I put my full paw strength into moving the crock so I could get to those little bottles. I did it.
I knocked one of them onto the floor on purpose so I could play hockey. The glass is nice and thick like a hockey puck, plus it’s good practice in case I ever get a job with the Soo Eagles. I didn’t think I would disturb her. She was sleeping like a baby, but as I hit the puck, I mean the bottle, she did hear me. She got up and shut the bedroom door. Talk about separation anxiety. She’s on one side of the door, and I’m on the other. I didn’t like that. So I waited a bit and decided to find something else to do. Something louder that would get her up so she would play with me. There is a red tin recipe file box with a handle next to her cookbooks. It’s just the right size for my paw. I slid my paw into the handle, thinking I could jump off with it like I was carrying a bag. Nope, that didn’t happen. It slid off my paw and onto the floor with a loud bang. There’s no carpet in here at all. So there was nothing to soften the noise. It did the trick. She heard me and got up still groggy from the pain pill. She started out of the bedroom but at a rather fast pace for someone so sleepy, but she forgot the bedroom door was shut. Oh yeah. Oops!
I heard a big crack. It was her nose. She broke her nose. You should have heard it. I still cringe hearing her nose crack. I hid under the dining room table. I’m not sure exactly what happened after that because I closed my eyes. She told me later that she felt like her nose was going to bleed, but no blood came out. She was hurting really bad so she crawled back into bed holding her nose.
She almost missed her dentist appointment the next morning, she was hurting so badly. Then she had to run home and head to another town for an appointment with her ophthalmologist, where she thought she was just having a check-up. But guess what? She ended up having surgery on her right eye. By the time I saw her break her nose, and until she got home at the end of the day, about 16 hours had passed. That was a good thing because she wasn’t in great shape when she got home. The pain medicine for her eyes had worn off, and she was hurting, not only from the surgery but also from the broken nose. I felt horrible about it, but secretly, it was funny too. If you could have seen her that night, trying to climb back in bed with a sore back, holding her nose at the same time. I get the cat giggles every time I think about it. My mom says it’s a nervous reaction. She told me when she was six years old, she broke her arm. She laughed the whole time. It must run in the family.
My mom sent my last column to the marketing director with the Soo Eagles. He has never contacted me about working for them in some capacity. Bummer! I was so looking forward to it. That’s okay. I still like the Eagles. I can pretend I’m on the team, but I better not practice at night anymore. I don’t want my mom breaking anything else.
I’m still calling for all animals and parents to either comment at the end of this column or email me at email@example.com. I would love to answer any questions you may have for me or to respond to any comments.
I am leaving you with this thought: “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” – Anatole France