We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia, heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!
That odd title, for most of my peers, will ring a bell in its reference to one of the early '80s hits, "Miss Me Blind," by Culture Club (you know, the band fronted by Boy George with that bizarre clown makeup). May I say, for the record, that I think that song was one of the more annoying ditties of my childhood decade?
Anyway, what's the feline connection here? I just returned from a lovely four-day trip to El Paso, Texas, to visit my grandmother and mother for Easter. We had a great time. Truthfully, though, when I'm traveling, I miss my kitty-cats. As much as I love the thrill and experience of going places and experiencing different things - a'la "Karma Chameleon," I suppose - going to bed sans furry, vibrating companions (no double entendre intended, seriously) makes a bed feel extra strange. I slept four nights in a cat-free bed, and it felt weird. I could almost hear a phantom purr, see a phantom sphynx shadow lurking above me, and feel a phantom wad of fur brushing against my arm. Then, when I awoke in the mornings, my initial reaction was wondering, "Why aren't my cats loving all over me, and pestering me for their breakfast?" Oh, right, I thought. I'm at my grandma's.
Yes, it is nice to get a break from even the best things in life - especially if they involve work, like pets. But still, when you're a cat lover - especially a Mother Catresa type who is surrounded by felines - catless days have a certain odd feeling about them.
I can't help but wonder: do my cats miss me as much as I miss them when I'm gone? Although cats aren't nearly as needy as dogs, and pet-sitters will take care of the cats' basic needs once a day, my kitties seem to be happy to see me every day when I come home from work. When I've been gone a few nights, then, they seem all the more eager. I can almost hear them yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" as they run toward me after I open the door. They usually follow me back to my bedroom, where I'll plop down on the bed, and they all leap up and join me, one by one, for petting.
Of course, as anti-cat folks accuse, maybe they're just eager for food, and the cats are only pretending to like me to get some. But, I testify, their food dishes were full. Take that, dog people!
Sure, my cats miss me. In fact, as Boy George would say, I think they just might even "tumble" for me, just like I'd "tumble" for them. But I most certainly do the lion's share of the tumbling - out of bed, to shut their hungry and demanding mouths up in the morning.
Then, there is the tripping and Figure-8 routine in the kitchen. But that's another story. Read about it in my last post.
Happy Easter, everyone!
Until next time, I remain,
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines
(and the "smitten kitten")