Anyone who knows Tom knows his one true weakness is cats. He has two - Yoko and Mothra - and the names of those in his past seem almost endless. Tom's motto is likely "what's life without a cat?"
Saturday morning Tom and I had breakfast in Germantown with Bob and then, per usual, came back here to play a hand of cards. When Bob left Tom stayed in the house and I walked out with Bob. I heard Bob say "Is that a cat meowing?"
I told Bob it was likely a cat
bird. I hadn't heard it but catbirds are common here and their mewing is uncannily cat-like.
But when Bob approached his truck he saw that there was a kitten in my garage. It wasn't there when we left for breakfast nor when we returned. It must have arrived while we were playing cards.
Talk about good luck for the cat. It was a combination of right time, right place.
I opened the back door and told Tom "there's a cat out here". He was outside almost before the words left my mouth. If cats are a weakness, kittens are kryptonite.
At first the kitten would not come near us. It rain towards the barn and kept its distance. While I went in and did dishes, Tom got some dry cat food out of his car and began enticing the kitten towards the house. The cat was thin and probably starving and took the bait.
Pretty soon I saw Tom sitting on the back porch, the cat at his feet allowing Tom to pet it. Yet another glance out a few minutes more and the cat was on Tom's lap.
Tom figures the cat is about a month old. It's pure black with white feet. It looks a lot like Yoko.
I sent a note to our nearby neighbor, Carla, to see if the kitten was hers. She has quite a few cats. But no.
I took a bowl of water out but the cat would have none of it. Later, when I began filling a bucket to water our plants, the kitten came and watched closely as the water filled the bucket. Clearly it recognized the sound of water and wanted some. When I sat the bucket on the ground, the car crawled up the side and balanced itself on the lip, drinking delicately but long.
Tom stayed on the back porch all afternoon. It hit 92° with high humidity. I could only take it half an hour at a time. But Tom would not leave the cat and began making plans to take it home. Late in the afternoon Tom drive to the grocery in New Lebanon and bought food for the cat. I became catsitter. The entire time Tom was gone the cat curled up under a chair and slept ...
Tom's calling the cat Teacup for its diminutive size.
When Tom got home he sent me a note. We had placed the kitten in a large cardboard box and crimped chicken wire atop. "T tried to bust through the box and chicken wire before I got to the end of the road," he wrote. "I got her quieted down and she mostly slept with little protesting till we got to 275."
"Then she found her way through the taped chicken wire as I predicted she would. I had no choice but to pull her out and try to hold her in my lap."
"But she insisted on my neck and shoulder and that's where she stayed till we pulled up in front of the apartment."
Tom placed her in an empty laundry tote and took her in,
"Yoko initially didn't bat an eye," Tom said, "but now has resorted to hissing and sulking. Mothra has slunk off under the bed."
Tom showed "T" the litter box and she used it. He praised her and he showed her the water bowls.
Tom's note came at nearly 9 pm after a long day. "She has napped ever since," Tom wrote. "She's between my legs right now."
He gave his cats a catnip treat - Pinehaven grown - and wet food, a real treat for them.
"All is well and quiet," Tom said.
