Second Word

Yesterday, as Rob, Olive, Ché and I lounged around on our bed post-race, Olive was uttering her usual "Cat!" shout-outs to the black one. We have lately begun to try to familiarize her with the cats' names and reply, "Yes, cat. Ché." And then she said it very clearly: Cheh, repeated it several times. No names used in association with Rob, me, any of the Khoreys or others with whom she's familiar - just Ché. Pretty cute.

What was not cute was getting a call this morning while at the Khoreys from Rob requesting advice on what to do since Ché had relieved herself on his khaki pants he's required to wear to work. "Should I just put deodorant on them?," he asked, in all seriousness. Not to mention making a real mess of his already sodden trousers, the stench of the two substances combined would have him sent home early for sure. I recommended a liberal sprinkling of baking soda. An extra pair of khakis are also in order. I really didn't think that the cats could do more to put their stay with us in jeopardy, but this morning nearly put me over the edge. Last night before bedtime Wendell made a break for it while I was releasing a stinkbug. Unable to lure him back indoors I went to bed, knowing he'd be back in the morning begging to return inside. Sure enough, sometime in the 4 o'clock hour I heard him outside our bedroom window howling like a wounded fox. I went to the door (but oh! I was able to walk without much difficulty!) to let him in but come, he would not. The meowing continued and I asked Rob to let him in, and he cooperated. Having to wake up before five on consecutive mornings isn't my idea of acceptable, especially when one of those times isn't necessary. These cats are costing me my precious sleep and Rob his friends at the zoo. I was about ready to put them both up for adoption - ideally with a loving family here in the neighborhood - till Olive and I stopped at the Family Dollar to pick up a box of cat litter (though their box was clean when Ché committed her act, I can't give them more reasons to choose our clothing over the appropriate waste receptacle) and was enthralled by the abundance of feline imagery in the pet aisle. "Cah! Caah! Cat!", she bellowed, overjoyed by the presence of so many dear and recognizable friends. How could I get rid of the cats? They've become far more of a nuisance than pleasure in the last year, but Olive has already grown attached, and as much as I dislike it for myself, I do like the idea of her having pets, as they teach her to care for and be respectful of other living things. So this is why we remain a home with cats...until the next episode.