{ Tuesday, January 07, 2003 }

One Adorable Cat.

I think Isis knows I'm sick.

He's doing everything he can to help me get well. Last night he slept next to me. Today he spent the day as close to under my feet (and on top of me) as he could get. If I was in bed, he was in bed and under the covers and around my neck, sucking on my fleece (he's a wool sucker). If I was awake, he was biting my face. I wish I knew why he does that. The sucking I can understand. He was weaned at four weeks. I'm trying to pretend that he knew I needed sleep, and biting my face to punish me for staying awake (and not petting him). If I was up and about, he was trying very hard to sit on my feet. Right now he's playing with my ankles from under teh chair while I type this. He also brought me a dead bird this evening.

If that doesn't say "Get Well Soon" I don't know what does.

Ellie left the house, got into her car, got the car halfway out of the driveway and then ran into the house. She told me not to let the cat in. Then she said he was busy killing a bird. I think she thought I might actually let a dead bird into our home. She came home and said "It's on the porch"...

I was such a big girl. I got a plastic bag and went outside and picked up the dead bird and fed it to Herbie (the garbage can) while Isis wasn't looking.

Then I came inside and thanked the cat for the offering. It was a big bird and I'm sure it took a lot of time and effort to find and kill just the right one for my particular flu needs. I think Ellie thought I'd lost my mind as I was petting and thanking the cat for his gift of death (considering I am the girl who won't wear leather shoes), but whatever, my cat went out and did something that I am choosing to think was very thoughtful.

I've never known what proper etiquette is for when your pet leaves you a dead animal gift. Dutchess, my elderly first cat (she's almost twenty), always ate everything she killed. She never left us offerings so much as glances at the carnage before she ingested it all. Emily, my younger cat who is still too old to move away from her dog (she's eleven), hasn't really ever brought us an offering. She's not a people cat.

This is the second dead thing Isis has given me. It was a very large bird. Large enough that I wonder if he isn't in the habit of killing birds, but normally he keeps them for himself. But this one was right there on the doorstep. Right there for his sick girl. (As far as I am concerned, my cat considers me merely "Lady" or "Girl". I have no idea what that makes Emma, Ellie, and Kristie, but I'm "The Girl" in my cat's mind in my mind.).

I hope that he isn't insulted that the dead bird never made it into the house. He didn't look for it when he went back outside... I hope he thinks I ate it or did whatever he thought I might want it for, and doesn't realize I threw it out. I'd feel really bad if my cat didn't think I appreciated his gift.

Clearly my cat loves me. He bites my face and leaves me dead things when I am sick.

[Go read we thought we were deep. Every Tuesday.]

posted by mary ann 11:16 PM