In Residence

Cats are dangerous companions for writers because cat-watching is a near perfect method of writing avoidance. Dan Greenburg

So, now I have another distraction than just the birds in my backyard. The Great Cat has taken up residence and been dubbed, 'Kaspar'. It is the pedigree of the name that intrigued us most. In the 1920s management at the Savoy Hotel in London used a wooden statue of a black cat to round out dinner parties of 13 guests. Kaspar was a most welcome guest at many an august repast.

I suggested we call the G.C., 'The 14th Cat', but was vetoed. I think Ellie would have opted for, 'One Cat too Many.' Introductions have been initiated. Ellie is none too thrilled and Kaspar is rather nervous about this large hairy beast with a guttural growl deep enough to be mistaken for an avalanche roaring down a mountainside. Kaspar has also proven to be a people pusher. As in, Pet me. Primp me. Pamper me.

Liseanne and her friend carried him into my bedroom in his carrying case, shut the door (with Ellie whining on the other side) and opened the carrier door. It took Kaspar all of three minutes to figure out he'd hit kitty nirvana. With one leap he was on the bed and in my lap where he proceeded to curl up and purr.

No shyness about this little guy. He's here. He's in residence. He's in command. Think he must have overheard bassist Paul Gray who once said, "Cats were put into this world to disprove the dogma that all things were created to serve man."

We are here to serve you Kaspar. Tell us your wishes. Oh, but we cannot get rid of the dog. We own her. She's not going away.

And so, for now, Kaspar has taken up residence on the floor beside my bed. Ellie has positioned herself on her rug on the floor at the end of the bed. She's turned her back to me, and Kaspar, and is pretending to be unperturbed by this sleek black feline.

Sides drawn. Drama awaits. Sort of like life. We pick our battles. Lay out our turf and defend our right to throw a tantrum if someone usurps our position or invades our territory without our permission.

I have high hopes the two four-legged creatures will come to an understanding. Perhaps an impasse, but an understanding none-the less. Ellie is here to give love. Kaspar is here to be loved. In the grand scheme of things, its got balance. To love and to be loved. As long as both of them know their positions and play by the rules of the game (and those are yet to unfold) I'm confident harmony will reign. As long as Ellie always remembers, while she was here first, Kaspar is here now -- and here now is what counts most in a cat's life. True upholders of 'living in the moment', Kaspar has embraced his new abode as if he's always been here. And we've embraced Kaspar as if he's always been a part of the family.

As we sat in the bedroom for a couple of hours last night, both girls, C.C. and Liseanne's girlfriend, I had to laugh. There's something quite funny about a party in the bedroom in honour of a cat.

Funny and warming too.

Like life. Funny, warming, filled with drama, heartache, heartbreak and heart warming moments that lift your spirits as you are willing to face the truth of the moment -- we are all but servants to a cat. No sense fighting the fact. It's best to just surrender and fall in love.