Bru and I were living a good life with Reggie, our parrot and TJ, our wiener dog when, for some reason, I thought we should get a cat. This really came out of nowhere because I am not a cat person and neither is Bru. I can only assume that I was under some kind of mind-control from unknown sources.
I started my research by looking in our local paper at the cats available through the Cat Sanctuary; a very reliable and well-run organization. They had a few specimens on view at a pet store in the city and we were welcome to go check them out.
So Bru and I got all gussied up and off we went. I really only had one stipulation. The cat had to be gentle enough not to eat Reggie and spit his little beak out onto my shoe. Oh, and I didn’t want it to be able to get on Reggie’s cage. The wiener dog was on his own.
So we reported to the pet store and we were ushered into the back area where they had let a pair of cats out while they cleaned their cages. These two were full grown and were going as a pair because they were litter-mates. Okay. What’s one more cat in the general scheme of things?
The first thing I realized is that these two looked like something out of the jungle. They were sinewy with cold eyes and within about one minute, both of them climbed the stacked cages with no trouble at all. Because they used their talons. The volunteer was beaming at their strength and dexterity. I was pale and in need of Imodium. One look at Bru and I knew he felt the same.
We thanked her, left the back room and stumbled over to bird supplies. We grabbed a bag of Parrot kibble, broke it open and just started eating. DID YOU SEE THAT? PEOPLE CUDDLE THOSE THINGS? I THOUGHT CAT PEOPLE DRANK TEA AND HAD AFGHANS AND STUFF.
When we had calmed down, we picked up some toys for Reggie, treats for the dog, paid for the kibble and left.
A couple of weeks went by and I started getting the mental call again that we needed a cat. What the hell was going on?
I contacted the Cat Sanctuary and they said they had a couple of black cats, sisters, who were not little kittens, but were not cats yet. The owner would be bringing them by in a day or so. She could have the owner call me. Done.
She called, we set up a meet, she brought the little teenagers over and we had a look.
They were lovely – both of them. Black, gentle, green eyes, cuddly, afghany, cup of tea-like, perfect cats. They didn’t have to stay together so we only had to take one of them. They were very similar in looks, but one had on a pink collar that said BELLA. I asked if that was her name and the owner told me that was the brand of the collar. Who knew?
That’s the one I picked. The Sanctuary took care of the paperwork, the spaying, blah, blah, and the next week we had a cat. Her name was Carbon. Sound of needle going across a record. I didn’t like that name. I wanted a name that implied that somewhere she had a pink tu-tu tucked away in a drawer. I’m a girl. I can’t help it. This was our first girl pet. We tried different names for a couple of days, but I kept coming back to the collar brand. Bella it was.
She settled in really well. There was a bit of a dust-up between her and the dog at first. He was a coward so that worked out. She wasn’t interested in the bird, but he would crawl down his cage and try to bite her tail, so that was new. But all in all it appeared that it was going to work out with our little family.
Then I began to realize she was clever and could be somewhat evil. And it also dawned on me where that mind controlling call to get a cat had come from too. It was HER. She had taken over my brain on several occasions, propelled me into the city to see some scary cats, then made me call the Sanctuary just when she was ready for adoption. She then presented herself as the perfect cat and now she was in.
It wasn’t all bad. She acted like a cat. She purred, cuddled, ate treats, chased toys and generally followed the manual pretty closely. But I saw stuff, evil stuff, and now, over the years, she isn’t even trying to hide it anymore so I want this on record.
With that, I’ve chosen to unburden myself on the unsuspecting Internet. These could be posts or maybe they are evidence, in case I just, poof, disappear one day, with no trace other than a little tuft of black fur on my keyboard.