Jake Dog and the Four Cats ... continued

As things settle down here at Mathom House, I can return to the tale of Jake Dog and the Four Cats. We left the story with the arrival and naming of Mean Ol' Ms Baby Doll.

Mean Ol' Ms Baby Doll was mostly a lump of fur and fat who sat around, ate, drank and pooped. She lived in this house for seventeen years yet those of us who knew her don't have too many memories of her. This we know:

She had white fur that she carefully tended. This led to hairballs that she spit out on a weekly basis. She shed constantly and because her fur was white, it showed up on every piece of furniture. She was not a friendly cat until I wore some dark article of clothes then she carefully rubbed up against me to show anyone in the outside world that I indeed had a cat.

She disliked me but she loathed Gary. If he came in the door, she went directly for his ankles. This was not a problem in the winter but during the summer shorts season he was an easy target. She had been de-clawed but her teeth were exceptionally sharp.

She kneaded every piece of furniture, claws or no.

She loved Chris from day one. There was no rational reason for her devotion, but she waited for him to come home from school. She liked to sleep at the foot of his bed. To my knowledge, she never bit him.

She loved catnip especially the wild variety we picked along the banks of the stream that traverses Seymour. We referred to it as Little Henry Gold. The moment we put some on the floor, she pounced on it putting her paws around it and glared at anyone approaching to guard it from interlopers. She munched it, she rolled in it, and when she reached her kitty high, she went to the water bucket and stared at it for an hour, her eyes glazed.

Whenever we had any company, Ms. BD came out of hiding and rushed to the new arrivals as if to say, “Take me home. These idiots are torturing me with bad cat food.” We had to warn everyone about those sharp teeth and tell them, “Please don't pet her.” Then she rubbed up against everyone, covering them with hairs.

Why did she have this behavior? I think the constant kneading probably meant she was taken away from her mother far too early. He hatred of all men probably meant she had been abused by somebody of the male persuasion.

Why she loved Chris so I never figured out. I was the one who fed her, changed her kitty litter and brushed her (always wearing gloves). Gary tried his best, bringing her the best treats, plying her with cat nip, and doing his best to pet her. All he got for his trouble were bite marks.

Despite what the humane society claimed, I was good to that silly cat. Others who observed Ms Baby Doll told me to take her to the pound, but with all the barfing, biting and complaining, she lived here for a very long seventeen years.

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