“Well that put you in your place didn’t it?”…
Last May Sarah and I stopped by our friend Malcolm’s house for a beer and a chat, as we often did on weekends. We walked onto his patio and I spotted a cat laying on one of the chairs. There are always cats around Malcolm’s house, but this particular cat we had never seen before. The first thing that I noticed about him was that he had huge front paws, and an extra toe that looked like a thumb. The only other time I had seen this was when we visited Ernest Hemingway’s estate home in Key West. The estate had cats that lived there, and they all had the extra toe on their front paws.
This cat was very mellow, and as I scratched his head he closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention.
I said to Malcolm, “Who is this? I’ve never seen him before”.
“Oh that’s Scruff. He is one of the strays that comes over to eat every once in a while” he answered.
“He seems to have some small bumps on his head. I can feel them when I scratch him.” I said.
“That’s because the other cats usually bash him on the head to scare him away from the food. He’s not a fighter. Do you want him? He’s a stray and needs a good home” Malcolm said.
I looked at Sarah. She had a big smile and even bigger eyes in reaction to Malcolm’s question.
“What’s his history?” I asked.
“He belonged to a family down the way and they abandoned him when they were evicted from their house. Some of the other neighbors and I have been feeding him ever since. You want history? - listen to this.
Last month, the property management company was doing an inspection of the homes. Unknown to them, they were followed into the house next door by Scruff, and he was accidentally locked in. The house is empty because the owners are from New York and only come down for the holidays. I noticed that he wasn’t coming around as often, and thought he had found a new home. Last week when I was out in the front yard, I heard meowing and looked around to see where it was coming from. I looked up at the second floor of the house next door, and there he was in the window meowing at me. I got the spare keys for the house and got him out. He was very skinny, but seemed ok. He had been inside the house for about a month. Now, be ready for this - he had opened a cupboard and chewed through tin food cans. Somehow, he had chosen cans of peas, that had liquid in them, which he drank. He is quite the survivor.”
I looked at Sarah and said, “Do you want to take him home?” There was no need for an answer as her smile said everything. Malcolm gave us a cat carrier and a litter box to start us off.
Sarah said, “I want to change his name.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“The paws tell you,” Sarah said. “Hemingway is perfect for him”
“You’ll love this cat”, Malcolm said. “He is very sweet and you’ll never hear a peep out of him.
Not that I didn’t believe Malcolm, but when he said, ‘you’ll never hear a peep out of him’, that is like when you ask for directions and someone says, ‘It’s right there. You can’t miss it, and then you go on looking for your destination for hours.
“I’m really happy that you are taking him knowing that he will have a great home.”
We loaded Hemingway into the car and made our way home. And then the truth came out. The statement “you’ll never hear a peep out of him”, came to light. About every minute we would hear a meow from Hemingway and it got louder as we drove. I asked Sarah to put her fingers through the carrier door and pet him. When she did Hemingway pulled her fingers into the carrier with his giant front paws and held onto her all the way home.
We stopped along our way to pick up some kitty litter and a small bag of dry cat food. When we got home I put the kitty litter in the tray and we placed the tray in the downstairs powder room. I brought the cat carrier into the front room and opened the door. Hemingway stepped out of the carrier, looked around the room and went straight to the powder room. Into his kitty litter tray he went and relieved himself.
“Well” I said, “He knows where he is supposed to go to do that!”
“That’s because you are a very smart little boy, aren’t you Hemingway?” Sarah said. She walked upstairs talking to Hemingway as he followed her up for his first tour of his new home.
I could hear Sarah as she described the layout of the second floor.
“Here is mine and Bob’s bedroom. You can sleep in here with us if you wish. Here is my bathroom and here is our walk-in closet. We go down this short hall and here is Bob’s bathroom. Now this next room is the spare bedroom where our guests sleep when they come and visit. This last room is the office where we have a computer & printer and where Bob is supposed to do his work. But instead of using this room he prefers the dining room table downstairs next to the patio doors where it is brighter and closer to the coffee machine.”
It was as if she was giving a tour to a writer from Best Homes & Gardens. I went out to the garage to put the cat carrier away. When I came back, both Sarah and Hemingway were on the couch watching TV. Sarah was at her end to the right and Hemingway was sitting in my seat on the left.
“Can you move Hemingway over to the middle so that he will be between us on the couch?” I asked.
“Oh there is no need for that” Sarah replied. “You can sit in your recliner and Hemingway can stay where he is.”
I looked at Sarah, and then looked at the cat. He looked at Sarah and then looked back at me…purring. I swear he had a smile on his face and he was thinking, “Well that put you in your place didn’t it?”
I realized right there and then, I had dropped to the third ranking in our house.
*Names may have been changed to protect the innocent!
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