cat scratch fever

I have a fever. I must admit this because I am not sure if the events I am about to share are real or fever-induced.

Last weekend, Dan and I undertook the scary job of cleaning our room. That is not to say we have actually completed this task, but rather, we can see the floor. The angry piles of dirty laundry that were plotting a coup are now downstairs. And I have removed the 2 inches of dust off the fan blades, thus preventing any further damage to our nasal passages, since we insist on always running the ceiling fan even if it is 2 degrees outside. We also tend to keep our window open throughout the winter, this may add to the constant cold I seem to have. But I digress….

So right in the middle of the dusting, vacuuming, wrestling with the dirty clothes, I hear this sad and persistent meowing outside. There was no snow on the ground, the temperature was about 40 degrees, but there was a slight chill in the air. Out of nowhere this cat came to our front yard, sat in front of our bedroom window and began singing this sad song…..to me. It felt as if this cat sang this song just for me. I believe it was the tune, “I am a sad and hungry cat with no one to love me. I know you have a nice warm roasted chicken in your house. I know you are a soft touch when it comes to stray animals. I know you want to give me some of that chicken….NOW!”

As I looked out the window, these sad little eyes looked up at me….I was caught. Trapped in the lock of these little feline eyes. It was if he/she knew what kind of person they were dealing with. As if the cat had heard thru the grapevine that a sucker lived in my house. Dan sealed my fate with this cat when he said, “looks like Casey.”

Casey. Casey had been one of our cats when we first moved in together. This cat had to weigh about 65 pounds, mostly fur, really. He was so terrified to be leaving his nice roomy home in the suburbs to come and live in our tiny apartment among the drug addicts and male prostitutes. So upset by this transition that he wedged himself into the tiny space between a wall and our entertainment center. I spent hours coaching that fat cat out of that space, not realizing that he was actually stuck. I think Casey fell in love with me when I freed him from his trap and gave him tuna out of the can…the whole can. We quickly bonded and he began to sleep with me. When I say sleep with me, I mean he would crawl under the covers and sleep against my belly. Dan used to say he was surprised we didn’t scorch the sheets with our combined body heat. It was a sad, terrible day for me when Casey died. That is all I have to say about that.

So, now this cat shows up. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon, begging for love. What am I to do? Yes, I gave him chicken. Cooper our dog shot me the stink eye as I carried out some nice warm, carefully sliced chicken for this cat. But I didn’t care. Cat was happy. Cat purred and rubbed against my leg. Dan called out the window to me, “he had you at meow.” It was true.

I put cat out of my mind for the last few days. Out of sight, out of mind. Until……tonight. We are in the midst of a so-called winter storm. This means it will be a pain getting this kids to school. Our district hasn’t had a snow day since the blizzard of 1921. I have been battling a fever/cold/flu all day. I finally have lulled myself with cold tablets, diet Pepsi, and 2 hours of television featuring those goddamn Nazi’s when I hear it…..”meow…meow.” It is very faint, but it instantly wakes me up. I look out my window, but all I can see is snow. It is very cold outside. I open the front door and I can see little tracks in the snow. Oh, god. Cat! I can’t see cat anywhere. I whisper, but no reply.

Here is where things get a little fuzzy. This may or may not have happened, depending on what you hear. I may have then pulled on Dan’s boots and gone outside to look for cat. In my head, cat would be very cold and hungry. In my head, cat needed rescuing. Out in the snow, I follow tracks, little tiny paw prints, which lead me into my neighbor’s yards. I am greeted with great barks and growls of dogs being let out one last time for the night. After all, it is midnight. And what will I say if someone sees me in their yard? Just looking for cat? Standing in the middle of someone’s backyard, in my p.j.’s and Dan’s boots I come to my senses. FUCK THIS CAT! This is insane. I am out here, for what? This cat doesn’t belong to me. What do I care! I refuse to care. I refuse to worry about that damn cat. True, I once begged my parents to adopt a 3-legged, one-eyed dog from the humane society because I knew no one else would take him. And yes, during a rather dark period in my life I once went 2 days without sleep because I knew animals were starving on the streets, but no more. I have a steel heart now….sort of. This is what is pissing me off. My displaced agony over the condition of the world falls onto this cat.


Somehow I can rationalize staying awake at night, worrying about a cat. I can feed the cat. I can’t rationalize the rest of the world. Even my own babies. How can I keep them safe? How can a person like me even be a mother? The world is this big scary thing and we are all so small and completely defenseless. Sometimes our mere survival depends on the humanity of people around us. A hungry cat keeping me awake? No, it is not the cat. It is the world that surrounds that cat. But I get so scared; I can’t even allow myself to worry too much. If I really sit down and think about the world I have brought my children into I would never sleep again. I would keep watch over them day and night, never letting them out of my sight. But, who can live like that? I can’t. I can’t even think about it…that is why I am up in the middle of the night, looking for some cat. Does this make sense? Does anything about parenthood make sense?

My poor babies are at such a disadvantage having me as their mother. How can I be a source of strength and comfort when I am terrified? Last night Nik and I were talking about fear. I heard myself telling him to not let fear rule his life. There is a difference between being cautious and being afraid. Instead of always being scared that the abominable snowman is going to grab you and eat your bones, be cautious and brave. Be ready for him if he comes, but don’t waste your time sitting around waiting for him. Nik took this to heart and said, “yeah. If he wants me, he will have to come and find me. And I will have my light saber and that will take care of him.” I wonder if Nik would lend me his light saber.