The Other Cats #2: The Invader
(Continuing the tales of cats I tend to forget I ever had. See #1.)
Rainbow (named for her unusual, multi-coloured eyes) moved in shortly before my firstborn started crawling.
A big cat, white with some grey and tan patches, she was a stray. We already had my beloved Guinivere. But Rainbow was insistent. She started coming in the cat door and helping herself to Guinivere’s food, boldly and blatantly. Unwilling to refuse an animal in need, I began setting out another plate for her.
She fed like a stray, growling possessively, gobbling fast. If Guinie came close, Rainbow hiss-growled, threatening with raised claws. I started feeding them in separate places. Distance established, they ignored each other.
I never warmed to Rainbow. Despite moving in, she wasn’t sociable. I hoped time would soften her.
Then she had kittens in the laundry. So that was why she muscled in! Our Scotch Collie appointed herself guardian of the kittens, allowing Rainbow to leave them occasionally to feed or relieve herself. As they got older, she left them longer in Lassie’s care, to explore the house.
One day my baby son crawled towards Rainbow. I never let little kids near animals because they treat them like toys. They don’t understand, until taught, gentleness to living things. But Rainbow didn’t know me well enough to trust me to protect her. Before I could intervene, she lashed out, clawing his face just beneath his eye, drawing blood.
(A thing Guinivere, knowing both herself and the baby as family, would never have done.)
They were nowhere near the kittens. Still half-wild, Rainbow was protecting herself. I nearly fainted at the thought that, a fraction higher, she might have blinded him!
I phoned the Cat Protection Society, who agreed to take Rainbow and family. When the kittens were old enough, they’d find them homes. They suggested Rainbow might suit an older couple without children.
The kittens were too young to leave their mother, but old enough to travel (contained) by car. It was easy getting Rainbow to come: she wouldn't be parted from them.
In some ways I admired Rainbow, although I didn’t like her. She chose cleverly where to be looked after while having her babies. If she hadn’t attacked my baby.…
She was never 'my' cat.
(Continued with #3)
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United via Writer's Pantry #71.
What an interesting continuation, Rosemary, and what a lovely name to give a cat! I’ve never seen a cat with multi-coloured eyes. Next-door’s cat would love to come into our house, but we don’t have a cat-flap. Our two scratch at the door to come in. I love that your Collie appointed herself guardian of the kittens! When I lived in Ireland, I had a cat who hunted for rabbits for her kittens and fed my puppy too. Such a shame she scratched your son.
ReplyDeleteLassie never had any babies of her own but was very motherly. She also regarded herself as a second Mum to my children.
DeleteRainbow was very lucky that you tolerated her after that attack and good that you found her somewhere else to live.
ReplyDeleteDon't worry, she was moved out the same day!
DeleteThere are so many nuances to our emotions. It's not at all hard for me to imagine those feelings of admiration, dislike, and a desire that life treats someone better so long as it's far, far away from me - LOL, mostly because I can recall how holding similar conflicting emotions affected me so profoundly. I'm glad that your (then) wee one suffered no lasting effects and that Rainbow had a chance to find a place that suited her better and maybe found 'her' human, if that's what she wanted.
ReplyDeleteAnother of your lovely cat tales
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday Rosemary
Much💚love
Thank you, Gillena.
DeleteChilling... Your child must've been terrified. Poor thing. I completely understand your mixture of respect and dislike.
ReplyDeleteHe was very young. I think he felt more pain than fear. He grew up to be a cat-lover!
DeleteI guess you might call Rainbow your accidental cat! You weave a compelling tale, Rosemary.
ReplyDeleteT hanks, Bev, glad you find it so.
DeleteA good story for the mix. You could tell your life story through your family tree of cats. I was scratched bad in the face by a cat too. I was sleeping over a girlfriend's house and she went to work and when I woke up the cat pounced. I never wanted to sleep with a cat in the house since.
ReplyDeleteWow! No you sure wouldn't.
DeletePS Marge Piercy's memoir is called 'Sleeping with Cats'. It's a great way to tell one's story.
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