BY LOLA BUNNY
Feline Contributing Writer
Meow, and salutations. I hope that your day is going purr-fectly. Once in a while, you readers may recall that my mom, Diana Ingram, lets my big brother, Yogi, have time to express his views.
I had a cat-versation with her about equal rights. I, as a girl, a feline and her other fur child, should have equal time, I sweetly suggested.
Let me first tell you a bit about myself. I was born homeless to a young mother. I never met my daddy, but many kitties don’t.
We lived near a farm, where my mother had made a nest of sorts from tall grass in the barn. We were often cold or hungry, but our mother tried her best.
It was hard for my mama to raise six babies without help. My first mom started not feeling well and couldn’t catch mice anymore. Sometimes, no matter how much we want to be independent, we need help. So, Mama left the safety of her barn and sought that help.
The farmer’s wife caught her, thought she looked a bit under the weather and called a cat rescue. When they came, they noticed she had birthed kittens and went to look for them. My past siblings ran up to meet her, excited and waving their tiny tails.
I was timid and hid really well. So, my mama, brothers and sisters were taken away. When they saw the vet, my mama was diagnosed with feline AIDS. So, meow, meow, my whole family was put to sleep.
Two days later, I was so scared and hungry that I too risked leaving the barn. I was very brave as I shook in my paws. The farmer’s wife picked me up. I really liked that, purr, purr, but she called out the rescue again (meow).
When the rescue lady came, she whispered in my soft ear, “Thought you could get away, huh?” and placed me in a big, cold cage.
I was, shudder the word, captured. The lady told me I was going to the vet in a tone I knew was not good and that she had to stop by PetSmart first. I sighed: a place called PetSmart must be a good place because it’s true that many pets are indeed smart.
Then what we call a miracle happened. Meow! My mom decided to stop at PetSmart to pick up some treats for Yogi. As she browsed the store, she noticed me in the cage on the floor next to the rescue woman who was chattering away.
Mom asked the woman, “What is the story about this little girl?” The rescue lady explained that my mama had feline AIDS and had been put down along with her babies.
She said, “This little stinker had hidden.” Stinker? I thought, I do not stink, whatever that means. Hiss! The woman continued, “I caught her, and we are on the way to the vet!”
My mom, having been a reporter for decades, always asked questions. “So, you are putting her up for adoption, yes?” “Oh no,” the woman gasped, “her mother had AIDS, so she must as well.”
My new mother counted to 10 and then softly asked, “What would happen if she does have feline AIDS? Could I get it?” The woman replied, “No, you are not a cat.”
Then my mother inquired, “Would my dog catch it?” The woman responded curtly, “No, he is a dog.”
My mother then asked, “If I kept this pretty little cat inside, would we all be safe?” The lady made a strange sound and said, “Well, I guess. But why would you want a cat whose mother had AIDS when you could wait for a healthy one?”
My mother took a deep breath and replied, “My brother had AIDS, and I never worried about him being in my house, so this little girl will be just fine.” She picked me up, and we walked out into our new life together.
On the way home, we stopped at the veterinarian’s office for my vaccinations, and she asked the vet if I needed anything special because of the AIDS. He smiled and said, “Let’s test her first to see.” And guess what? I did not have it!
I cried a soft, sad meow, wondering about my siblings. Did they have it or not? Do people judge everyone together? That does not seem right to me.
So, here I am, Lola Bunny, in my special world inside our home, just the three of us! I must explain. Now, unless you are a cat—homeless or blessed with a family—it is really kind of impossible for you to feel, see or hear the way I do.
I’m not saying I’m superior to you. Oh, not that—I just have a different point of view. Mom says that even though we’re different in some ways from other living things, we still have more in common.
We meow, and people think that it’s us constantly repeating the same sound. Not true! We use many tones of meow to express our hunger, thirst, need for attention, anger, fear and wish to know when bedtime is.
It can be very frustrating when our humans do not understand what we are saying. Mom says that happens a lot with humans, too. People hear the sounds but do not listen to what the other person is really saying.
Let me explain: I am what is referred to as a house cat, which is another way of saying Mom feels I’m safer away from a lot of what is out there, like dogs who do not like cats, cats who do not like other cats, squirrels who can try to pick on us and humans who do not like cats (How can anyone not like cats? I do not understand. We are so darn cute, and our purrs are sweet.).
Mom says there are a lot of humans who do not like each other. Don’t figure. So, my view of life is probably different from the big white cat who lives across from us and stretches out so long on her driveway or the little orange tabby who often lies in the grass on our front lawn.
Mom says all that makes life more interesting, like how all the different flavors in my kibble make it taste better.
Mom says she likes knowing I’m safe because she loves me so much. Now that I am a bit older and can watch television with Yogi and Mom, I see a lot of news shows, and I think she is probably right. I tell you, I worry and play with my whiskers every time she leaves our apartment and goes “out there.”
Mom has people visit her, and I listen and learn even more stuff. I have some of her friends so enchanted with me that they bring me treats, which is so purrfect. I have found out that you can learn a lot by just listening.
From my cat’s eye view, things seem to be sort of, well, off balance up there in your higher air.
By off balance, I mean when two cats meow loudly at each other, we know it only proves you have a louder voice and do not know how to use your words. We know that sometimes the weakest voice has the most to say.
Now, I understand that in our house, there are just the three of us, while out there are millions and millions of you humans.
So, that does make one very crowded cat box! If everyone is kicking up the litter at the same time, that could make one hot mess.
When Mom worries, Yogi and I do too. We all know that when Mom ain’t happy, no one is happy. Mom sighs that people used to be so much more polite.
She tells us that people used to disagree, not hate each other and still respect each other. Mom says that just because people are different doesn’t mean they couldn’t be friends.
I understand. Sometimes Yogi drives me to hide under our bed when he barks, and I know that at times my meowing makes him shake his head. Mom always smiles, then tells us, “Ok, you two, lick each other and tell each other ‘I love you.’” The rule in our house is to be kind to each other.
When Mom reads the Bible to us, it says it there, too. I am a Cat-alytic. Mom says that no one is all right or all wrong in this world, and that makes kitty sense to me. In our home, we worry about those we know and those we don’tknow. We are all investors on this Mother Earth—people, dogs, cats, all kinds.
I am not very old—about 2 ½, which in cat years is…I forget. But even I have noticed summers are hotter, storms are stronger, and cat food costs more. And let’s face it: no matter who you are—cat or human—we all have to eat. Lots of people, like us, do not have much money, and that makes food even more precious.
My feline brain tells me that, in our great country, food and a roof should be possible for all of us. I know that I am very blessed. My needs are few, as I have someone who loves me to the moon and back.
I am fed, we have a roof, clean water, a bed, and we three live safely together. My feline heart wishes that all creatures and humans have the same. Now that would be purrfect!
When I lie on our floor looking out the tall patio doors, I see parts of the outer world. I see that the sky is such a pretty shade of blue, like my mom’s eyes, and it is decorated with huge puffs of white, which Mom calls clouds.
Our sun is out—not too hot, not too cold. I can see the dance of the branches in the breeze. I love to watch the cycle of colors out my window. I can see birds flying high in the sky. Some birds come onto our patio, and they eat from our bird feeder. I love that.
I like to lie on the top of my sofa and watch the squirrels run back and forth across our fence. It drives Yogi crazy, which is kind of fun.
Butterflies dance around all the potted roses in our little yard. Yes, there are outside cats who like to lie on our fence to tease me. They meow, “See us? We are free. We can go wherever we want.” But Ido not mind. Because, you see, I have all I need to keep me happy right here.
As I ponder the sights and sounds outside, I can’t help but think about the importance of having a safe, loving home. Just as I find comfort in our cozy apartment, I hope that every creature, furred or feathered, finds their own sanctuary.
It’s these little moments of peace that remind me of the blessings we have. My heart swells with gratitude each time Mom, Yogi and I share a quiet evening.
As the sun sets and the first stars appear, I know that the love we share within our walls is the most precious gift of all. Mom says that is because there is no place like home.
Thank you for reading my feline report. I am going to go now and lap up some cool water. I hope that the view of your world is a beautiful one and that you feel content being just where you are.
We three here feel that way. Do not worry: Mom will be back at the keys next week, writing about Mother’s Day. So, meow and out.
— Lola Bunny is a feline columnist and daughter of Diana Ingram.
