Never Stop Thinking about ToMEOWrow

Those who dare to bring a new cat to an older cat’s home are brave. I am not brave, I am hopeful.  The isolation of NewCat, now being called Chenji  continues. Yesterday, I came home and allowed him out.  He is young and full of energy, leaping, bouncing around like a ball and really looking for trouble.

I decided to let him out of his isolation room and he was met downstairs by the Boss, hissing, spitting, and fluffing his hair.  Chenji ran back up and when I opened his carrier, he readily went into it.  I took him down and let him do a face-off with the Boss.  I sat down on a chair, holding a broom just in case I need to intervene.  I was sweating buckets.

The following is the transcript of this second encounter:

Bosscat:  Damn, you are still here?  Why are you not gone yet?

Chenji: Why do you hate me so much? Hey, you wanna play with my string? 

His right paw extended to retrieve his side of the string and I noticed that his little paw was trembling. I felt bad but helpless. I started hot flashing.

Bosscat: I do not have time to play your silly games, shelter boy! Hiss, spit!  Piss off! See how bigger I am than you, fluff, fluff, wag tail, licking my lips, I can eat you alive!

Chenji: L-O-L.  Seriously?  I might look scared but really I am not.  Look directly into my eyes, you will now feel love and kindness towards me.  There you go, directly into my eyes, you will feel warmth…

Bosscat: Hey punk! I am not playing with you.  This woman here, she is a sucker for little kittens.  You have her under your spell, but not me.  Excuse me while I throw up!

Chenji: Know what, I am sick of your drama.  So why don’t you try to attack me, come on Mr. Medicare, show me your muscles!

It was the longest five minutes of staring down. I decided to open the cage.  Chenji made a beeline for the upstairs landing. When he got to the banisters, he proceeded to do his pole dancing with childish arrogance. We are convinced his previous owner is a stripper.

He is agile; he would wrap his little body around the banister and turn around and around. If he was not owned by a stripper, then maybe a Cirque du Soleil acrobat.  Once he got tired, he went downstairs to the kitchen.  He then proceeded to check out Bosscat’s water and food dish.  He started eating a piece or two.  Bosscat  assumed a hunter’s gait and slowly walked into the kitchen and situated himself a yard away from Chenji. He watched the little punk taunt him by eating his food and licking his water bowl. I was eating my own dinner quietly but keeping an eye on both.

Bosscat: See this is a problem, lady!  - He was looking at me for concurrence. 

He continued: He is so disrespectful.  He has no manners.  He feels he is entitled, eating my food and rubbing his face on everything I own. These young ones feel so entitled, they do not want to work hard, they just want things to be handed to them.

I started to think he makes sense so I said, “Hey Chenjie, that is not your food bowl.  Leave it alone or ask for Bosscat’s permission, ok? Be nice, ok?”

Chenji:  For real?  Oh well,  my bad. No big deal, Jeesh.  He rolled his eyes

 
Bosscat:  HEY!  Don’t be cocky.  Remember, you are a new comer.  You gotta pay  your dues, dude.
 

Chenji: Did you just say dude? O M G  - you are weirding me! Aren’t you too old to be cool?

 

BossCat: Hisssss! One more word from you and I will beat your ass, you jerk!

 

Chenji: Well catch me if you can, Pops, you know, with all due respect…

 

Then in an instant, Chenji ran back upstairs and BossCat  went to the foot of the stairs, waiting for his moment of attack.  Chenji was looking at him with his head looking out in between the banisters. More hissing and then they locked their stares.  What to do?

 

I turned on the TV and watched the Democratic National Convention.  Bosscat approached me and sat on my lap, we watched for a while and then we took a nap.  We woke up to some movement and Chenji was back, checking out the powder room, kitchen, and dining room.  I got up to pet him “Hi little one, you okay, you a good kitty?”

 

He responded and I will never forget his response:  Lady, I thank you for bringing me home with you. I want no one to feel left out, let alone Mr. Bosscat.  I have been found on the streets, I was homeless for two months, and I have a scar on my right leg because I had to defend myself from gangsters and other haters. I am black, I am marginalized. Black cats are the first to be euthanized because no one wants to adopt us. They think we bring bad luck.   You are something special and I can see that you are a nice lady and your white guy is very nice.  He strokes me and asks how I am doing everytime Boss hisses at me.  Hey listen, I saw your son, where did you guys adopt him? Sorry,  I do get distracted.  Anyway, when you took me in, you gave me legal papers. I am no longer undocumented. I will never be homeless again. 

I would love to really be part of your world, to assimilate and learn the norms and culture in this home and learn your ways, speak your languages, and love you back.   I only hope Bosscat can learn to accept me.  I will keep on trying until he realizes that I mean no harm. I don’t want to take his job, his toys, his benefits, but I want to learn from him.  All I ask is that I am given a fair chance and I will prove that I am worthy of your love and acceptance.  For real, I will do the job that he does not like to do like killing the ants and the stink bugs. 

 

I was moved.  He spoke of sentiments that hits home.  Bosscat was staring.  Then Chenji  ran back to the upstairs landing, took Bosscat’s pink stuffed mouse and beat the crap out of it.  I understood.  He needed to vent out his frustration.

 

Upon the “death” of the pink catnip stuffed mouse, he pulled the other end of a  yarn string from me, put it in his mouth and proceeded to step backwards with his hind legs, an amazing talent that he must have learned from the stripper/acrobat. Then he took to his “pole” and started his pole dancing to Fleetwood Mac and President Bill Clinton’s campaign theme song,  “Don’t Stop Thinking about Tomorrow.”  I held him, “Chenji, no one will make you leave, kitty.  You are documented. We chose you and hey,  we are not in Arizona.”   You know this cat, I think he fits right in our home.