Psychoanalyzing the Cats...

Q: What does an indoor cat do?
A: Anything it wants, with cattitude.

So, I have two cats. Maybe the correct phrasing is that I live with two cats, and give in to most of their whims, the main exception being that I don't let them hang around outside. That's not to say they don't occasionally make a mad dash for the door...

Karma Kitty is a miniature black panther, who came into our house first (see "I'm going to the cats..."), and who is the king of all he surveys. His sister, Drexie Calabash, is a delicate-looking black and grey tabby with a white belly and white paws. She's half his size, but managed to get him in line the second day we had her. Nothing like getting the aggressive old-timer into a headlock, then proceeding to kick him in the face while biting his ears. After the third time, even the most stubbornly territorial cat will call for a truce.

The two are five-and-a-half years old, with very distinct personalities (or catalities), but they are both adept at bringing just enough chaos and eye-rolling to those around them.

Karma is pretty laid back, for the most part. He's also a closet-escape artist. He'll go for a week or more at a time, letting people go through the front door without moving from the couch; if anything, he'll look up, give whoever's opening the door a look that says, "Do you mind? I'm trying to sleep, here!" Then, once everyone is lulled into a false sense of belief that he thinks of himself as an indoor cat, he makes his move - fast. You've heard the term black lightning? That's him.

A while back, this lovely young woman kept knocking at my front door, wanting to convert me to her church's beliefs. I'd tried delicately, then somewhat bluntly that I had my own beliefs and church, thank you very much. Yet, she persisted...until Karma took matters into his own paws.

One day, while writing away, I had the windows open, screens in place so the cats could catch a breeze without getting out, the TV tuned to the Food Network (Paula Deen's show was on; been hooked on her show for years), so it wasn't like I could pretend no one was home. The UPS truck had gone by twice in less than five minutes, and was slowing down on its third pass. I heard the brakes, then a knock on the door. Oh, boy!, I thought. Presents! (Even though I usually have to pay for stuff delivered by UPS, I still think of 'em as presents; I mean, UPS doesn't deliver bills!) I opened the door.

"Hey, I was just wondering," said the young woman, as the UPS truck pulled away from our neighbor's house, "Can I leave you a few tracts?"

Karma saw his chance and charged out the door, running toward the other neighbor's yard and huge tree.

"Noooo!" I yelled, tearing after Karma. "You get back here, right now!" Yeah, like a cat's going to listen, right? He jumped over the small wall around the neighbor's front porch; I had to take the long route, bypassing the wall to get to the opening.

"Come here!" I called. "You know I love a good Karma! Please, be a good Karma!"

He looked at me as I got closer, then jumped back over the wall. I turned and ran back through the opening, and watched as he dashed to the other side of the large tree. He and I circled the tree, me calling for him to be a good Karma, not a bad Karma, until I finally snagged him. As we headed toward my house, I held him so that I could look him square in the eye. "You know I don't need a bad Karma, I want good Karma!"

I swear, he had a mischievious look on his face; the woman, however, eyes wide, decided that no amount of tracts could help someone who was into cosmic karma...Haven't seen her since.

Usually, Karma's pretty laid back. Oh, he will get a little feisty if someone rubs his velvety fur when he's not in a loving mood; several people find him a little intimidating that way. He does tend to lie on me in the evening when I'm watching TV and purrs in my ear.

Drexie, however, is a jittery little girl. She loves love, but on her terms, sort-of a "Love me, love me from afar" kind of gal. She loves people stroking her fur, but forget about picking her up.

She also tends to be a little ditzy. Once, when I badly hurt my leg after falling off a ladder, she decided to love me up during one of my many naps over the next few weeks. At one point, several days after the fall, she decided to rub up against my face, then proceeded to cat-walk down my hurt leg. Who'da thunk a six-pound cat could hurt a leg that much! I screamed loud enough that my son, who was on the other end of the house with his headphones on, listening loudly to music on the computer heard me and came running. Drexie, in a panic, came running back so that her nose was a mere inches from mine, frantically meowing her concern.

I loved her up, told her I was okay; once she was sure I was okay, she proceeded to cat-walk back down my leg! This happened three times, at which point, she was picked up and placed on a bookcase by the door by my son. Drexie was upset; her mommy was hurt! She jumped back onto the bed, landing right on the same leg. (Like you didn't see that coming, right?) Sweet kitty, but a little ditzy.

She also loves a couple of catnip mice that I bought for her and Karma last Christmas. She chats at them in a loud meowing voice, dragging them all over the house. I would love to know what she's saying to her mousies.

What really puzzles me is this: She's gotten into the habit of occasionally dropping one or the other into her water bowl. I have yet to figure out whether she's: 1) trying to wash the mouse, 2) let the mouse get something to drink, or 3) fix herself some catnip tea. (Left in the bowl long enough, the catnip from the mice tends to turn the water a pale shade of green.)

Darn, I wish the cats could talk!