On Cats and Kids
I’ll probably post a series of articles about my various feline companions. In this case, it also involves my son, Xander. Alexander Gray McCarthy is his full name. The Gray comes from my maternal grandfather Guy Ray Crist. Guy Ray, Gray, get it? Anyway, we call him Xander, except for Mandy, one of my many sisters-in-law. She calls him ‘Gandalf’, Gandalf the Gray, get it? Anyway.
Xander was offended today. He got a bath.
So, he’s squalling. Mommie’s crying cause he’s upset, I’m sort of giggling. Actually mommie was giggling too. Several of my cats, however, were highly offended by this wailing.
When I’m in the front of the house, I do have trouble distinguishing between Xander and a wailing cat. Of course, my hearing isn’t the best in the world. Comes from having a dad with more firearms than many small countries.
We have a momma cat… actually she’s never had kittens of her own. She has however raised two batches of kittens as a foster mother and done a darn fine job of it. More on thos adventures later. She’s a sweet, little cat. Heavy on the little. She probably weighs about 4 pounds. I believe that she could be thrown into a pride of lions and would begin trying to mother the 30 pound lion cubs. And probably do well at it. The two males that we still have, that she raised, are wonderful cats… and VERY submissive to her.
So Nickel comes to see what kitten is making this horrible wailing. She is prepared to defend the kitten to death or give it a good bath. What she finds comes as something of a shock…
Poor Nickel just couldn’t figure out how to relate this hairless primate to a kitten and make it stpo crying. She sat there the entire bath, ready to lend a paw if needed .