Friday, November 21, 2008
Queen of Sheba
I have a cat. She is the sweetest cat I have ever met. We adopted her about a month ago after a friend found her in the parking lot of a post office where she was abandoned.
We brought her into our home where she was introduced to our two children and our 11 pound MinPin. After smacking the dog into submission and learning to stay out from under the kid’s feet, she fit right into our family.
My daughter and I named the cat Ella. Short for Cinderella. A precious name for a precious cat. However, our precious cat has started to be a bit high maintenance.
She eats six times a day. At first, I indulged this since when we brought her home you could count her ribs by sight. But now, not having been able to break this six meal habit, her belly is so big it sways when she walks. And please, do not try to withhold food. She will search you out and meow at you until the nerve in the side of your temple threatens to beat a hole in your skull. Sanity demands you fill her bowl with food. Even if it’s three in the morning.
She has also declared the stairs as the place to which she rests her sleepy head. She stretches her long body across the entire length of a step and doesn’t mind when you step over her to descend or ascend the stairs with laundry in your arms.
But, when she jumps in your lap, curls into a ball and soothes the stress of the day away with her gentle purrs, all of her habits become endearing. At least they were until last night.
Recently, we ripped the carpet from our stairs and replaced it with hard wood flooring. It’s the pinnacle attraction of our house. It has also left our arthritic, 10-year old dog unable to move between the first and second floor. Now the dog stands at the top or bottom of the stairs and does a sort of half hopping rain dance until you pick her up and carry her to her desired destination.
The cat, having watched the dog, has discovered how much less energy she could expend if she would only demand a ride up and down the stairs. Unfortunately, she decided to try out this idea in the wee early hours of last night. That cat sat at the bottom of the stairs and meowed for two hours until my husband got out of bed and fetched her highness up the stairs, where she curled up and went to sleep for the rest of the night.
I have decided Ella was an inappropriate name. We should change it to Queen of Sheba. She apparently believes she is royalty.