Jack’s happy home came to an end with the death
of his beloved Penelope. I heard about this from my friend, Tom Simon. Tom and I were long-time friends of Page Stevens. Penelope was Pages’s widow. Now, Penelope was dying. Tom said she was in hospital with incurable cancer and unlikely to survive.
Penelope wasn’t worried about herself. She was worried about her cats. Her brother, Gary, had agreed to take Frosty home with him.
Jack had no one.
Tom had been going to Penny’s house every other day to feed jack and change the litter. Tom suggested I give Jack a home. After all, I already had two cats, what was one more? Tom said Jack was a very nice cat, very friendly.
I wasn’t worried about Jack being friendly. I was worried about what Gray and Calico would think about Jack.
I told the ladies Jack might be coming. They looked at me. I don’t think they were really listing. I couldn’t have told them anything more anyway. The only thing I knew about Jack was his name and that he needed a home.
Some days later Tom came up to the door with Jack in a kitty-carrying case. Once inside, Tom sat on the sofa and opened the case. Jack emerged and immediately climbed onto Tom’s lap. “See, I told you. Jacks a very nice cat, very friendly”.
Jack’s first encounter with the Autum leaves and outside air of the deck
I looked around to see Gray and Calico’s reaction. There wasn’t any. Gray and Calico had vanished. Cats are very good at vanishing, especially when dealing with the unknown. Tom said, “Oh they’ll come around. They just need to get to know each other?.
I wasn’t so certain. Gray and Calico have lived here for several years. They both like me. They barely speak to each other.
Jack seemed to be an older cat, not quite elderly, but older. He had a gimp in his left front leg and he was fat. He also suffered from some sort of gastronomical problem. Tom had brought along a special dietary food advised by Penny’s veterinarian. Sensing concern, Tom said, ”It’s a little expensive, but I’ll buy more for him”.
Ah well, Jack needs a home.
I won’t pretend the home I provide will be as satisfying as the home Penelope provided, but it will have to do. First, Jack will not be eating whopping bowls of food available whenever he feels like it. Around here everybody, the birds outside, the cats, and myself, eat four small meals at regular intervals.
I’m convinced biological bodies run best when they run lean. I suspect regular small meals will get rid of Jack’s excess pounds and possibly his gastronomical problems as well. We’ll see, It can’t do any harm. Animals like predictable routines. So do I.
Next morning I opened the door to the deck outside to feed the birds. Grey and Calico galloped out. Jack stood at the doorsill looking doubtful. After a while he put a tentative paw on the sill. I had the impression he may have never been outside.
Gray lay still when Jack walked up to her. It was a good sign. Calico was watching from the railing nearby. All three rummaged about the leaves for a time, then returned inside for the morning meal. I imagined they were busy sorting through their first impressions. More likely they were thinking about the upcoming meal.
I knew something about Jack none of them knew about - not that they would care anyway.
When Tom brought Jack and his stuff to the house, he also brought an envelope with six checks, each for $600. Penelope had provided Jack with a $3600. endowment.
Jack was rich.
I suppose Penelope had provided Frosty with the same amount.
I wasn’t sure what to do with Jack’s money. Should I start a private checking account for him? Maybe an interest-bearing savings account? Finally, I settled for depositing it in my own checking account, carefully noting it as Jack’s Endowment.
I doubt he’ll ever use it all.
I served Jack’s first few meals apart from Calico and Grey. After a few days of this, Jack walked into the kitchen before I could take his meal to him. It wasn’t exactly a moment of dinning together, but it was at least a moment of dinning near each other. Of such small steps, civilization becomes possible.
Not quite together, but near.
After a few weeks of testing and suspicion, the tranquility of normality has set-in. The three of them have not become friends, but then, Grey and Calico were never friends with each other. Mutual tolerance will have to do. I think the only other cat any cat thinks of as friend is a littermate.
Even that is debatable.
Fortunately, all three think of me as friend. Not just because I feed them. They’re all affectionate. Calico is not as openly obvious in her affection. Both Gray and Jack like to curl up under my arm every night at bedtime. Grey has done this for years. Jack did it the first night he was here.
I knew this would be a problem. I didn’t know what to do about it. I hoped the kitties would work out a solution on their own.
They did. It took a while.
On the first night Jack curled up under my arm and stayed there purring for twenty minutes or so. Then he jumped down. He did not return. I expected Gray to jump up after Jack’s departure. She did not, but she was watching.
This went on for a few more nights. Then, one night, Jack got up as usual, but did not jump down, instead he moved to the bottom left-hand side of the bed. I thought Grey seeing this would jump up and curl herself under my arm.
She didn’t.
Several nights later, Jack returned to a twenty-minute cuddle, then jumping down. Grey waited until Jack left, then waited another half hour, just to be sure. Finally, she reclaimed her rightful place under my arm and slept there for the rest of the night.
I imagined their actions as some sort of feline diplomatic negotiation. I’ve some hope they may some night find a way to be on the bed at the same time. We’ll see.
Meantime, they’ve become accustomed to roam the deck and dine together comfortably.
I’ve been diluting Jack’s health food with a dash of Meow Mix. It helps him get the health food down. His gastronomical problem seem to be fading away. I think the open air of the deck and regular small meals have helped.
I’ll keep feeding him the health food, anyway.
Everyday life has settled into predictable pattern. Calico and Grey have learned to accept Jack as no more objectionable than the objections they have with each other. It’s the peace of no conflict. Perhaps, one day, friendship. No, not likely. Lack of conflict is good enough.
On the fourth week after Jack arrived my friend Eddy and his wife Terry came for a visit. Well, really, they came to see how Jack was doing. They’re both great cat lovers.
Terry brought along a kitty-toy-shark stuffed with catnip. It was a big hit with all the kitties, not together, but separately. They took turns.
Jack immediately climbed onto Eddy’s lap in purring communion. Eddy was charmed, just as Jack intended. Jack does this with every human he meets. No doubt a legacy of his life with Penny. Calico and Grey looked on without comment.
Jack welcomes Eddy on their first visit together.
And so the days go by, quiet and uneventful, just the way the kitties and myself like it. The disruption of unwanted change has worked itself out. Satisfying sameness has returned. Jack is feeling more at home with each passing day. He seems happy.
I hope Penelope is pleased.
Jack reflects on what was - and what is.