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I KITTY YOU NOT

I have written numerous times about our cat, Delilah, and how she is, for lack of a better term, evil.

Yet, despite the fact that she was forged in the inner circles, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings. And lately, I think she’s been feeling a little blue.

You see, several things are working against her, and her world of once-comfortably expressed disdain for humankind is being turned upside down.

The first thing is when my mother-in-law comes to visit. My mother-in-law ranks cats only slightly above Stalin. Actually, they may rank lower than Stalin, since as I understand it, Stalin did not have retractable claws.

So, out of respect, when she comes to visit, I try and board Delilah at the vet’s office. I used to try and isolate her (the cat) in one room of the house, but invariably she would escape from said room and would immediately sprint to wherever my mother-in-law was, even if it was the shower. So in order to save them both the trauma of coexistence, I have opted to letting Delilah go for a relaxing stay at the feline resort of my choosing.

This adds to her unpleasantness. While most animals do not like going to the vet to start with, Delilah gets the added bonus of nary a soul wanting to get near her. Apparently, you viciously maul just one staff member, and you’re forever labeled “a threat to society.”

So when I take her in, I have to tote her back to her little cage, while all the other cats are leering at her through the bars, no doubt wondering why none of the kind, animal-loving staff members will even touch her. She might as well be wheeled in on a Hannibal Lecter dolly.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “that poor kitty. Shunned at home, shunned on the road.” (Well, most of you are thinking that. My mother-in-law is thinking, “Stew? Hmm. Worth a try.”)

So you can guess that when my poor, sad little shunned cat comes home, I try and do everything to make her life feel worthwhile again. I let her shred my clothes and bite my legs and even occasionally attack the back of my head with claws and teeth. You know, typical fun-loving pet stuff.

But, alas, her good cheer soon wears off, because any minute her ultimate nemesis enters the room: the dreaded, feared…two-year old.

Yes, my daughter Allie has added to Delilah’s woes in life. It’s not that Allie is mean to Delilah. In fact, quite the contrary. She talks in a soothing voice whenever the cat is near and often tries to gently pet her. And that’s why it is torture for Delilah.

For a cat, she’s no dummy. She knows what will happen if she follows her natural instincts and takes Allie out back and buries her. And she knows she has no choice but to sit and take the horrid abuse of constant affection at the hands of a child. A soft rub of the back to Delilah is like a cheese grater down your back. Pleasure is pain for her, and you can see it in her eyes. She will sit on the floor, perched in an uncomfortable cower, staring at me as Allie strokes her fur. She is speechless, which considering she is a cat is a good thing, I suppose. But her look screams, “Make her go away. And let me claw your arm.”

So that is where we stand in Delilah’s current funk. She is always either in transition or being viciously and ruthlessly petted and caressed. It’s starting to take her toll. We find her hiding in out of the way places a lot these days, such as in closets or bathtubs or 10-12 feet up the chimney. She is searching for solace. And it is nowhere in the house.

I am sure that things will eventually turn around for her. Maybe she can be taken off the Most Wanted list at the vet’s office. Maybe Allie will find the dogs preferable for petting companions. In the meantime, I’ve got to do something to make her feel better. I am ready to let her take out her frustrations in the way she likes best: on human flesh. It’s time to let her have at an arm. I’m willing to make that sacrifice, because that’s the kind of man I am. I am sure Delilah will get more than her fill of much-needed human interaction courtesy of the offered arm. When Delilah does do battle, I just hope for one thing – I hope my wife’s arm heals quickly.

E-mail me at mwg1234@yahoo.com.