Kittenhood—the Early Days

Sir Socks as a kitten drawn by Ali Noel Vyain.

I don’t know much about my kittenhood beyond being cared for in a woodpile in a backyard. My mother took care of me and my three brothers. I don’t remember two of them who went to different homes. Nor do I have any idea of what happened to them after they had left. However, I do remember my brother Spitter. He and I continued to live at this same place for a time. Our mother, when she had decided she was done taking care of us, left to live at the house across the street.
What bothers me the most about my mother was that even though she had taken such good care of us, she had left us without any warning. Spitter, Inky, Paintbrush, and I never had to worry about anything with her around. She had just left us in the woodpile and went to live across the street. I have no idea where Inky and Paintbrush went. I hear they were adopted by some humans and I never saw them again.
All three of us, my mother, Spitter, and me, lived in a small neighborhood in a cul-de-sac. I suppose Spitter and I were happy. I don’t even remember all the people who were coming and going in the house we lived in. All I know was the main human was a blind guy. He remained there with us for our early years.
My brother and I didn’t tend to talk to strangers much. Neither of us were ever outgoing. But nonetheless, we grew up and we stuck together. We had a happy little kittenhood there in the woodpile. I couldn’t have asked for a better beginning in this life.
All of us were black and white cats in various different designs. I just happen to be a tuxedo cat. I had more black than white than my brother Spitter. He was mostly white with some black accents. Even our mother was mostly black with some white. I suppose you could call her a tuxedo cat as well. But she had more white on her than I do.
Why did she just abandon us? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t have to leave us. She could have stayed. I am quite upset about it. Spitter agreed with me. After she had left us, we never liked her anymore. If we saw her, we hissed at her. Spitter was more of a hisser than I ever was. We were both skittish and didn’t trust humans readily.
The blind guy who lived in the house didn’t stop us whenever we came in. Eventually, he looked after us in his own way. He let us come and go when we pleased. He took pictures of us that my girl doesn’t have permission to use. It’s a shame. He took such good pictures of us. But my girl may make drawings based on those pictures she was able to get copies of.
I’m glad I grew up. Being a kitten isn’t a lot of fun when everyone expects you to play with toys and be cute all the time. Sure, I didn’t mind wrestling with my brothers, but I was never that into toys. I’m more of a cat that wants to observe the world around me and wonder what’s wrong with it and the humans we share this planet with. I prefer meditation to playing with toys any day.
What is it like to grow inside the womb before birth? Sometimes I have wondered. But I can’t think back that far. It is still a mystery to me. But that never stopped me from trying. When I meditate, there’s no telling where I go. But I usually learn something when I travel that way. I see things that I can’t see when I’m wide awake.
But even with the meditation, I couldn’t have foreseen where life would take me. Later on, car trips, bus trips, plane trips…it was all too much for a independent cat like me. I just wanted to be free to roam. To come and go as I pleased, but somehow when I had lost some amount of freedom, I had gained some security. Was that a good trade off? I suppose it was. My latter years were wonderful with my girl, Spot, and Isis.
Just to think that I met her and she didn’t seem to try to do anything to me when we first met. She just let me come and go. Never forced me to do anything at all. I couldn’t have asked for a better human to come into my life. I just had to wait a few years into adulthood before she could show up.
Where was she before that time? I have no idea. She never told me. And I never asked.
But I never saw my girl until after she was here. I had no idea when I first met her how much she loved cats in general. I couldn’t have foreseen how much she would love me and other cats. Actually, I thought she was too silly to make a good caretaker and caregiver. And at that time, I didn’t need a new one. Spitter and I were fine with the blind guy.
But it seems that her presence had disrupted our lives in ways that I never understood until much later. It was her fault, but she had no idea of what would happen when she put certain things into motion. At least she takes good care of me. Otherwise I don’t think I could have forgiven her now that I know.
By the time she had told me it was her fault, the damage had already been done. But by then I had learned what a good hearted and sweet person she is. I had to train her to take care of me, but that wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She at least listened to me. She isn’t stupid either. At times absent minded and too focused on her work. But not to the point that she wouldn’t listen to me when I need something.
She sometimes works with me sleeping on her lap. Those are the days. I’m glad we met. Without her, I don’t know what would have happened to me. She was a whirlwind that had changed my life so radically from what it was, but in a good way. I just had no idea until after the whirlwind had scooped me up and we were in a different place. It was my first move and I wasn’t sure what was going on.
Afterwards, it was one adventure after another. Not the kind she writes about. I’ve never lived with my head in the clouds as she does. No, this was real life and it was full of mundane cat experiences. It’s my life and I don’t regret living it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.