ANIMAL TALES

I’m Sitting on a Cat

It’s a long story

Otis. Photo by Andy Greenwell. (Used with permission.)

I’m a dog person. Always have been, always will be. From my sainted childhood dog, Sandy, to my soulmate dog, Chloe, to the two knuckleheads we have now. My heart belongs to canines.

But life has a way of turning us on our ears.

One year ago today, my beloved asked me to sit outside with him late at night to hear the screech owls. He hears them often (a fellow night owl with the flying sort) and wanted me to hear their haunting sound.

So, we settled into sticky Adirondack chairs under the pine tree in the cool night air and listened closely. Sure enough, there was the piercing sound of the owls. Punctuated by the throb of American bullfrogs that surround us.

Then there was another sound. The distinct sound of a pitiful meow.

Suddenly, out of the dark shadows, a scrawny, teenaged kitten leaped into my lap. Purring and rubbing against me relentlessly.

I have never liked cats, and they’ve never liked me. We’ve had a mutual agreement — we keep our distance.

So having a cat jump into my lap and be affectionate was a new experience. Andy, a hopeless animal lover (all kinds), was immediately…