Trares
Even before hearing a sound, I can feel that I’m being watched.
My eyes fly open in the dark. I know what’s coming.
Our cat Olaf had meandered into the room. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but I knew that any second, the mournful, unending whines would start.
Who needs an alarm clock when you have a hungry cat?
I’ve never considered myself an animal person. Sure, I can appreciate the diversity and beauty of animals, fish, birds and other creatures out in nature. And I’m always up for a trip to the zoo. But even though we had a cat (briefly … RIP Charcoal) growing up, I’ve never felt the need to have pets.
The same could not be said for my wife. She grew up surrounded by animals in her own home, and the homes of her aunts, grandparents and other relatives. For a while, she even planned on being a veterinarian.
When we first met and started dating, she had just moved to the city of Frankfort, where we worked together at the newspaper. Within weeks of her moving into her apartment, she had adopted a small kitten named Kia.
From the start, Kia was a troublemaker. As soon as my wife brought her home that the little scamp found her way into a hole under the sink and into the walls. I received a frantic phone call; it took hours to coax her out.
But Kia became an integral part of our relationship. Each step of the way, from dating to engagement to marriage and starting a family. She was a good, if not a grumpy, cat.
Then a year before Anthony was born, we had the opportunity to bring Olaf into the fray, after a family member’s cat had kittens. Olaf was an entirely different cat than Kia — curious, rambunctious, infinitely annoying. Over the years, his favorite pastimes are climbing on top of our kitchen cabinets, chewing (and then spitting out) ribbons on balloons that he can reach, and chirping at birds, bunnies and other wildlife that wander past our patio door.
And of course, he never misses an opportunity to let me know when he’s hungry.
Along the way, we also picked up a turtle named Purdle. Anthony named that one. We were a regular menagerie.
Even though I wasn’t the animal person in the family, it was nice having these creatures around. The cats would snuggle up against us as we laid on the conch, or curl up in a ball at our feet while we slept. Purdle had his favorite rocks, and it was always amusing to see him stretch out his neck to get as much sun as possible.
Late last year, Kia passed away. Her health had been failing, and we could tell that she was in pain. Though we understood that she wasn’t hurting anymore, it was still a blow to our family, particularly my wife.
And it threw Olaf for a loop. He couldn’t understand where his playmate and tormentee had gone. He acted weird for weeks.
Eventually, we accepted the loss and settled back into routine. Olaf is again alternating between running around like a lunatic and lounging slug-like on top of the couch.
The loss of one pet made us all appreciate the comfort animals can provide. Even when they’re driving you crazy.
So when Olaf wakes me up at dawn begging to be fed, I’ll silently curse, wish I could throw a pillow at him, and begrudgingly get out of bed.
Then I’ll reach down and scratch his ears with a smile.
