Catnaps and Footsteps in the Night

When my baby daughter Anna got married I became the “proud” owner of a long-haired white cat with black markings. This feline was predestined for the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” not necessarily for me. This cat was born with one side of her body (that’s steadily growing wider) an elongated letter “W.” When my daughter saw this stray, she decided to keep it, determined that the cat should have a home and a name that commenced with the letter “W.” She started to brainstorm, working her way through the normal “W” names. As she proposed the various names, nothing seemed to fit. It was then that my warped sense of humor took over and I suggested Willow. I didn’t share how I came to that name, but she liked it and the cat was dubbed Willow. Later I explained that the cat was actually Pussy Willow. Anna kind of wrinkled her nose at the thought, but the cat’s name remains Willow.

The problem with owning a long-haired cat is that she sheds. Brushing her seems to just loosen more hair. Vacuuming clumps of hair eliminates the fur balls on the carpet, but for only an hour or two. The second problem is the puked up hairballs. Moving through the house barefooted in the dark without flipping on a light can be rather treacherous. Unexpectedly a squishing sensation can cause me to go into an episode of hopping on one foot and a dash for a paper towel. A third problem is that Willow is a long-haired cat of two colors. If I wear light slacks, the black hairs show prominently, but if I wear dark slacks, I gather the white hairs. A de-linter roller has to be used each time I leave the house.

Willow is a good mouser. The only problem is she plays with the mouse without killing it. Her collar bell rings wildly as she bats and chases the “toy” from area to the next. I take her toy away by using a shoe to stun the mouse. Willow sadly looks up at me as I flush her plaything away.

Willow’s day consists of eating, using the kitty litter, and sleeping, Interspacing these activities, she comes to my feet, begging for a snack. Little does she know is that I buy a different brand of cat food and give her a few of those pellets. Wet cat food? She may eat a bite or two then refuse to eat anymore and I waste an entire can. After sleeping most of day, I often hear her racing through the house at full speed and I wake, wondering how an elephant got into my house.