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Some of you have noticed that both cats and dogs are not prominent in Paksworld…and yet, they’re there, they just haven’t been emphasized. Crown has a cat who moves plot a little, in one area. And there’s a hound someone recognizes. But that’s pretty much it. Cats in Paksworld serve the same purposes as they do here, in those farms, ranches, and towns where vermin cause damage and spread disease.
Cleopatra, our current cat, with a hispid cotton rat she killed.
Cleo came to us as a stray–I thought she was a feral, to start with, but apparently (since she jumped into a friend’s lap, rolled on her back, and said “Save me” in cat body language) she had been owned, but also trapped in a building for some time. She was terrified of enclosed spaces, including the house, for years. She was a superb barn cat–this was, as far as I know, her last successful hunt, last summer, when she was already quite old and stiffening up. She brought it up to the porch and presented it, then ate the whole thing. Hispid cotton rats are the common field rat around here, much appreciated by cats, foxes, coyotes, hawks, and owls. We have other rats (including the house rat kind, though it’s not the main one) but the hispid cotton rat is everywhere. She also took mice of all kinds (we have several) and young rabbits. Once I watched her kill a snake–a harmless rough green snake, which she pounced on, exactly like the mongoose in Kipling’s story “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.” Jumped on from behind, bit behind the head, sprang away. When younger and very athletic, she would jump up on the van, and from there to the rafters of the carport, where the old Folbots are stored, and den in there, safe from coyotes and other problems.
She has transitioned to “mostly house cat” over the past two years; this winter was the first time we could convince her to stay inside all night, and now she considers me her ideal sleep partner, draping herself over me, or lying next to me, when not complaining that I turn over too often. The vet tells us she’s remarkable healthy for a cat her age (guesstimate of 19-20; she came to us in 1997 and the vet considered her probably 2 to 2 1/2 when we took her in.) She still wants out at least twice a day, to go drink from the artificial stream (fed with untreated rainwater from our rainwater system) and wander about. In cold or wet weather she comes right back in; in warm weather she may lounge in the shade somewhere for hours. She gets to do pretty much what she wants to, except that I consider the kitchen table a NO CATS zone and she does not.
Cats in Paksworld are in the size range of domestic cats, and everyone with a barn or stable has one or more (usually more). Some people let them in the house and some don’t. Most cooks do not want them in the kitchen, though they will feed them scraps at the back door (whatever counts as a back door.) If there is an animal to be milked, that family’s cats learn to “catch” some milk squirted at them. They don’t invade theology (that I’ve noticed so far)–they aren’t considered evil, no matter what color they are, and are not considered divinities, no matter what color or shape they are. I ‘see’ most of them as having medium to short hair length (no real longhairs) and a variety of colors and markings. But nobody (that I’ve met so far) breeds cats in Paksworld–they’re prolific all on their own.
So here’s the cat topic, for those who want to talk about cats…
Comment by Margaret Middleton — May 26, 2014 @ 9:14 am
Not a Paksworld cat, but…
We once had a cat whose name wound up being CleoPatrick. There was this confusion when we first acquired him [as a stray kitten in the church parking lot], since he had a broken tailbone and was understandably averse to having my mom inspect that area too closely. He would hunt crawdads, waiting just inside the drip line of the house eaves on rainy days until they flooded out of their burrows [this was in Baytown at the head of Galveston Bay, so the water level was pretty close to the surface anyway]. He would also regularly piss off the local mockingbirds, presumably by hunting their nestlings. When we moved away from that residence, he went back.
Comment by Beth Cato — May 26, 2014 @ 9:16 am
Lovely picture of Cleo… but then, I’m especially fond of black tabbies.
Comment by elizabeth — May 26, 2014 @ 9:41 am
We had a lovely tuxedo cat stray who acted very, um, feminine. So we thought it was a girl cat. Gorgeous emerald eyes. Named “her” Esmeralda and took her to the vet to be checked out and spayed. Got call from vet in fits of giggles, explaining that they’d saved us a lot of money by doing a sex change operation and just neutering him. New name: Gaylord.
Snowball, as a kitten (we got him from a family we knew) was thought to be a female by everyone, including the vet. “She” even swelled up, as if pregnant, at the right age after the right behaviors. Chewed the fur away from nipples, the whole thing. We waited for kittens. Snow disappeared for two days. Came back slender, without kittens. Poor thing, we thought. Hiding the kittens or they were born dead. Snow appeared nonchalant, didn’t show any distress or any sign of suckling hidden kittens.
Within the next six months, it became obvious that Snowball had had a sex change–his head broadened, his neck thickened, and his family jewels appeared, amply large. His voice changed, too. That vet was astonished…and a big, dominant male tomcat Snowball remained for the rest of his life. When he brought home Lady Gray, my mother named him Sir Thomas, though we still called him Snowball at home. He had some odd behaviors for a big tom. He liked kittens–his kittens could lick drops of milk off his whiskers, or pounce on his tail, and he would play very gently with them. When a very young tom from blocks away tried to challenge him (in our front yard) he dealt as gently as possible while doing the necessary to convince the youngster.
He had an odd relationship with a white rabbit I had for awhile (the rabbit was not amused and chose to see attempts at play as attempts to eat.) Snow imitated the rabbit and tried to hop like one. “See–I’m just like you–let’s be friends, shall we?”
He had a friendly relationship with our female terrier, Tippy, but when I brought home a male collie pup, Snow took it amiss. He used to sit on the yard fence and dangle his tail just out of reach of the pup, to torment him…but one day the pup was big enough, fast enough, and could jump high enough. Snow came strolling over the back fence as usual, and Lad went for him…Snow reached the side yard fence safely, yowled loudly at my mother, and stalked away in another direction. He never came back. (He moved into a household some blocks away–they’d thought he was their cat anyway–and he wouldn’t come to us when we visited. “You traitors–you usurped my authority with that miserable collie.”
Comment by Richard — May 26, 2014 @ 11:40 am
A fine line to draw here, avoiding spoilers, but Crown has a cameo by another cat that someone sees – any connection to Snowball?
Comment by GinnyW — May 26, 2014 @ 2:15 pm
I will take up the invitation and mention Sophie, a highly independent calico cat, born of a wild mother, who appeared in our yard one spring. Sophie loved to lay under our blueberry bushes, usually waylaying squirrels, mice and pigeons, but on one occasion a snake,and on another some giant green beetle I never want to see again.
Typically, for a cat, Sophie loved my husband. He, perhaps not typically, does not like cats. Really would rather never see one. Sophie, liked him though. Whenever he went out, she would go wind around his legs. If he sat, she would jump in his lap. He was priviledged (jinxed?), she would stay underneath the bushes hiding from anyone else, and dig her claws into anyone else who tried to pet her, even the neighbor who “adopted” her.
Comment by Fuzzy — May 26, 2014 @ 2:39 pm
We had Maine coon cats on the farm. Adopted and brought home two adolescent males in the same cat carrier, along with two teenagers, 4 dogs, crates, show clothes and general mayhem in a honda civic hatchback. When we unpacked the car, we carefully made sure all the windows and doors were closed and let them out—whereupon they disappeared! But it was chilly, and we would wake up from a nap or sleep with the distinct memory of something warm purring by our head…it took 2 weeks before we saw them.
Comment by LarryP — May 26, 2014 @ 8:46 pm
Ah Joe willie a tom cat named after a football player,you might know of was a gray tabby who would leave home for weeks at a time and show up all beat up when he got home. One Joe broke his right front leg and that did not slow him down one bit. I came home from school one day and found a half eaten rabbit on the back porch what was left was as big as Joe willie himself, he had climbed over the back chain link fence and hunted and killed the rabbit and dragged it home with a broken leg.
A few days later I saw him run and go over the side fence when I looked he was charging 2 German Shepherds in the front yard with his broken leg stuck straight out in front of him, I thought I would have to save him form the dogs, but no the Shepherds toke one look at Joe Willie and ran from him, Joe Willie chased then to the ditch by the road and stopped as the dogs ran form him.
Comment by LarryP — May 26, 2014 @ 8:48 pm
sorry mulity post
Comment by elizabeth — May 26, 2014 @ 9:07 pm
LarryP, I’m going to try to delete one of the multiples.
Comment by Iphinome — May 26, 2014 @ 11:16 pm
Happy booksmas everyone.
Comment by Joyce — May 27, 2014 @ 2:22 pm
Sat and read Crown in one long,satisfying gulp today. WONDERFUL! I loved every word, and am already looking forward to the re-read. (Have surgery early in the AM, thus the hasty reading today.Will read it again once the pain meds aren’t making me woozy.)
Thank you again, dear writer, for this wonderful story.
Comment by MaryW — May 27, 2014 @ 8:33 pm
Growing up we were lucky to have Clover (aka Kitty Clover Potato Chips). Clover loved children including toddlers. My then youngest sister(12-24 months old) would wear him like a boa and pick him up by the tail. A great dinner companion he would would discreetly eat anything I would not. Clover was also a travel companion. He managed to get into the car unseen too many times to count. Alas, we moved and he could not come with us but we know he loved the young child at his new home.
Comment by Eowyn — May 29, 2014 @ 8:45 am
When my DH and I decided to get cats, we went to the adoption agency and there were some nice cats but in the back were two silver tabbies who were littermates and about 1.5 years old. The person pulled out the first one who was very sweet, I passed him to Chris and the cat melted into his arms and melted his heart. Pooh had claimed us. Tigger took more time to come around but was a wonderful boy. We only had them 6 years but we still miss them. Currently we are smirked at and ordered around (with varying degrees of success) by a pair of Siamese whose previous owner’s child became violently allergic to them. Feste LOVES being up high (we moved all the blown glass to the back of the shelves so he at least walks in front of it). Touchstone tells Chris when it is time to go to bed.