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(published in Metro toronto free newspaper, jan 24/06 by Lisi Tesher)
Lessons I learned from a cat
I once had a roommate who had a cat. He was a white long-haired fluffy thing — the cat, not the roommate — and his name was Shmoo.
Truth is, I’m much more of a dog person. I find cats mysterious and mischievous, and the combination is unsettling to me even though that’s probably part of the allure for cat lovers. You never know where cats are, where they’ve been or what they’ve been doing, and they’re always licking themselves and looking at you obliquely as if trying to ascertain whether you’re on their side.
Unfortunately, I once lived in an apartment where the air was ripe with the pungent smell of cat urine. Of course, it wasn’t noticeable when we took the place. It turned out the landlord, who lived below us, had exceeded his limit of household cats and hadn’t bothered to teach them to use their litter box. Gross! That certainly didn’t help in endearing me to felines. Nevertheless, when Shmoo died, I was sad and missed his furry presence in our house.
But the relationship I celebrate today concerns a cat I learned to love. A few years after Shmoo’s demise, my old roommate got himself another cat named Clay.
Clay was different. He hung around us more, wanted to be petted more, and seemed more like a pet dog than any other cat I’d ever met. He shared his owner with a woman and two dogs, and they all lived happily together.
Clay could sense my apprehension but I think he knew he could sway me. He always jumped up on my lap when I visited, and insisted on lots of affection. What won me over was how he used to bow his head, leaning into my neck and kneading (the way kittens do with their mothers) with such love. Then he would fall asleep and purr heavily in deep contentment.
Clay passed away suddenly a few weeks ago. When they did an autopsy, they found that his body — poor little guy — was riddled with cancer. He had never complained, never bothered anyone with his troubles. He suffered in silence.
It took a special cat to teach me a lesson for which I’m grateful and would like to pass on: those judgements we make based on past experiences, whether about people or animals, should never be set in stone.
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