Living a Happy Life

I love cats. I remember stages of my life based on the cats we had at the time.

Whitey and Pepsi and Brutus and John and Johnny and Cody and Bear and Ebony and Ivory and Bax and Sparty.

Dad knew my love for cats at an early age and so he always made sure that we got a beautiful one, a unique one. When we moved to Cushing when I was in the 6th grade, my cat Brutus ran away. I wasn't too traumatized by that as Brutus was rather mean. Dad travelled to Oklahoma City quite a lot in those days, and one time he told me I could go with him and we'd find a kitten. He bought a newspaper and while we stayed in the motel, I scoured it, circling ads for free kittens. It had to be free, it had to have long hair, .and it had to be pretty. Those were the stipulations.

Somehow we happened upon this man who was giving away a litter of manx kittens and the mama. We took two male kittens--long white hair with big blue eyes and no tail. They were gorgeous. I loved those cats. They both came to a rather tragic end a few years later and that's when Cody came into my life. By this time Mom and Dad had split and we were living on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. Dad must have gone on a cat search unbeknownst to me and he found this cat lady that had all kinds of cats in her house. Beautiful, long haired cats. And so one day when I went to visit him he surprised me with a half-persian kitten. He was stunningly beautiful. And so, I named him Cody and then, a few weeks later, realized that he was a she.

The name stuck.

About the time I graduated high school, Cody got feline leukemia, and thus ended the reign of my childhood cats. My sophomore year of college, Roy was the assistant dean there at Southwestern and so he had an apartment. One day we were walking through the mall and we passed a pet store. We stood at the window and laughed as this playful kitten pounced on his sleeping siblings over and over and over again. Finally we left and circled back around awhile later. The kitten was still pouncing. And so, ten dollars later, we came home with Bear.

Bear lived a good long life, but by the time he was in his teens, he was riddled with arthritis, could barely make it up the stairs of our home. He was such good buddies with Sam, our dog. And so, when Sam got throat cancer and we had to put him down, we took Bear in too. The thought at the time was to stay pet-free for awhile, but the girls, who were about 3 and 5 then, were devastated. One day as we were driving home from Madison, we looked in the backseat and there they were, big crocodile tears rolling down their cheeks. We miss our pets!

And so we headed to the Humane Society to pick out a kitten. The girls immediately latched onto a cute little black and white female who had short hair and was sweet as sugar. Meanwhile, I pulled a long-haired, black kitten out of a cage and she promptly crawled up to my head and curled up.

Ebony and Ivory.

Poor Ivory didn't quite make her second birthday as she just didn't have street-smarts. But Ebs lived a good long life and she was always my cat.

And now? We have Bax, the Where's Waldo of campus. He's all white, blue-eyed, short haired, and deaf. He's quite a character--probably because he's deaf. He doesn't mind vacuum cleaners and he loves to sleep in the middle of the road. Somehow he has managed to survive to live almost 4 years now so I guess he's got good luck on his side.

And then there's Sparti--short for Sparticus. I've always named our pets so Roy claimed he got to name this one. It wasn't my name of choice. I wanted Oliver. But, I compromised (I'm nice like that). And so, Sparti it is. He's a good one--and he loves me.

I'm not sure why I'm such a cat lover. It's funny to me how people either love cats or dogs but not generally both equally. I really like dogs--absolutely. But they just aren't my preference. I love cats' independent spirits and their lazy ways. I can relate to how they like to curl up in front of a fire and nap the day away.

How heavenly would that be?

They go about their lives as though they own the world. They're quiet and graceful and confident. All traits that I admire.

Not too long ago I watched this video that was basically a study on Do cats bond with humans? It showed how a dog's owner left the dog in an empty room and had a stranger enter. The dog was anxious, nervous, pacing. Then they performed the same experiment on a cat. Once the owner left, the cat? He couldn't have cared less. He was, in fact, more interested in the stranger than he'd been in his owner.

And so the person performing this study concluded that cats don't have the capability of bonding with humans as dogs do.

I don't buy it.

Sparti loves me the most. Given a room filled with people, he always chooses me. And Bax? He absolutely chooses Roy over me. It's the darnedest thing. Bax loves to ride in the golfcart. If he sees it coming, he trots over, meowing all the way. And then when Roy stops the golfcart, Bax climbs on, makes himself comfortable, and hitches a ride. But if I am the driver and the lone passenger in the golfcart, he trots over, looks up and realizes that it's yours truly, and then promptly turns and walks away.

And yet, every single morning at 5:15 a.m. I turn on the porch light, open the front door, and peek my head out to call Bax in. Of course, I don't actually call as that would be pointless. (He's still deaf.) But he's always waiting there patiently--despite the fact he could come inside via the cat window. And when he sees me, he takes a few steps, then stops. Looks around. Looks at me. Takes a couple more steps. Stops. Looks around. Looks at me.

Come on, Box! I say, rolling my eyes, exasperated. And finally--finally--he makes it up the stairs. But when I reach down to pick him up so I can get him in the house, for pity's sake...he acts startled, looks at me with fear in his eyes as though I might kill him.

At last I get him in the house and then he proceeds to trot off to the kitchen, meowing all the way, in anticipation of the can of tuna he knows I am going to feed him.

You're welcome, Bax.

One time we watched a show on Animal Planet that talked about the ten most vicious animals that simply kill for the sake of killing. The number one animal?

Cats.

But regardless, I think we humans can learn a lot about how to live a happy life by watching a cat:

...endless, endless patience
...the beauty of a long nap, sprawled out on our backs without a care in the world
...the importance of grooming and presenting one's best self
...being content with the simple things of life--a cool breeze, a fluttering leaf, the rays of sunshine
...savoring each moment as if it's possibly your last.