THE REAL LJ IDOL SEASON 8 WEEK 23: The Weak Force
BROKEN SYMMETRY
APRIL 1990
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!"
The plaintive cry was utterly unique, and impossible to transliterate properly: it was a meow, a purr and a trill all rolled into one. It was being produced by a tiny bundle of fluff sitting in front of my family home: a tuxedo-style short-hair with irregular markings. She was so thin that her ribs were visible; she looked like she'd be carried away in a strong wind. The poor creature couldn't have been more than eight weeks old, and she was obviously starving.
"Don't you dare feed that animal!" my mother hissed at me. "The way that it's shedding, it's obviously sick! It will only die on you!"
Mother's statement galled me; the woman had always been a cold, harsh taskmaster, and her attitude had only gotten worse since Dad died. Her emotional instability required her to have utter control over every aspect of her life, so she ruled her house with an iron fist. Though I was twenty-six years old and a college graduate, I had yet to find gainful employment, and was supposed to live by her rules as long as I was under her roof. I tried to be a dutiful son, and put up with her bullshit as best I could... but enough was enough!
I got right in my mother's face. "If that kitten dies, at least she'll die contented, with a full belly!" Mom paled at my retort: I had never directly confronted her on any matter before this day; previously I had always found ways of appeasing her... but this time, I knew she was completely in the wrong. I found an open can of tuna fish in the fridge and spooned the contents onto a plate. Mom silently glared at me as I brought it to the front porch, but I ignored her -- I was twice her size, and knew she couldn't stop me.
I set the food down, and the kitten leaped forward to devour it. I sat down next to her as she tucked into the first real meal she had eaten in days. She would never win any beauty awards with those irregular markings, but I was enchanted by her ocean-blue eyes and perfectly triangular pink nose. I did not try to touch her until she had licked the plate clean. When I finally did reach out to pet her, she quickly leaped again... into my arms! She nestled herself in the crook of my left elbow, buzzed merrily and licked my skin in an effort to groom me. She gazed up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers... and the expression on her face was one of pure adoration.
It had been a long, long time since I had truly felt like someone loved me. Now that I had it again, I'd move heaven and earth to keep that feeling...
JULY 1990
The cat grew like a weed, and soon the outline of her ribs disappeared into her frame, though she remained a very small, sleek animal. She continued to shed fur like mad; I suspect she had a long-hair or two in her ancestry...
Mother refused to let me bring the cat inside, even though we had a rodent infestation at the time. "My house, my rules!" was all she'd say. Due to her emotional issues, Mom was impossible to reason with -- she had to have control over her own home, period, end-of-statement. I could have pressed the issue, but I feared she might harm the cat if I brought it in. Hell, Mother even objected to my leaving food for the animal on our front porch, reminding me that it was part of her house.
Fortunately, our neighbors on either side did not object to my leaving food on their porches: each found the cat to be utterly adorable, just as I did.
Neither of my neighbors could take the animal in: Mrs. Park's children kept a set of gerbils in the home, while the Allertons owned an extremely territorial poodle. But each family contributed to the cat's welfare: The Parks found a old milk crate which they left on their porch to provide shelter from inclement weather, and the Allertons added an old but soft towel as bedding.
Though she was loving and affectionate to all who cared for her, the cat made no secret of who her favorite was: when she wasn't napping or hiding from the rain, she would sit directly in front of the entrance to my house. The only problem was she sat so close to the screen door that it was impossible to open it without hitting her... and though I knew it was the quickest way to break her of the habit, I could not bring myself to hit her with the door.
Mother forbade me from giving the cat a name... so I called her 'Doorstop'. Technically it wasn't a name, it was her function...
OCTOBER 1990
The autumn chill came early, and the weathermen expected a long, hard winter. I could not bear the thought of Doorstop suffering through it outdoors. But Mother remained adamant in her position: 'That Animal' was never coming inside her house.
None of the no-kill shelters would take her; they were filled to capacity and then some. The neighbors couldn't take her in, either.
That left just one alternative...
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo?" Doorstop looked at me quizzically as I took up the milk crate and placed her inside it -- I didn't have a pet carrier, so I was going to make do with the materials at hand. That meant only I could take her to her destination; she would accept affection from our neighbors, but she would only allow me to carry her.
My heart broke with each step, but I kept murmuring to her, "It's all right, everything will be fine." I could see the trust in her eyes, even though I was carrying her far, far away from the only home she had ever known. At last, I reached my destination, and knocked on the door. The man on the other side took his time opening it.
"You're early." His name was Tommy, and I never liked him much. Though we went to the same college and ran in the same circles, he had an unsavory reputation as a manipulator. The fact that he married my sister Alice only added to my antipathy.
Alice had met Doorstop on a recent visit home, and instantly fell in love with the animal. But my sister already had a cat, a bruiser of a tom named Brutus, and she feared how he would react to the new member of the family. Tommy had also complained to her about keeping a cat in their small apartment, and she figured that her husband would never agree to adopting a second one.
I had many reasons to dislike my brother-in-law... but I could not deny the decency he displayed when I contacted him about Doorstop, and he agreed to take her in.
I would no longer be able to see Doorstop on a daily basis. Hell, Alice and Tommy were already talking about moving to the suburbs to start a family. But now Doorstop was indoors, with someone who loved her and would care for her.
It would have to be enough.
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo?" Doorstop was obviously confused by her new surroundings... but I saw no fear in her eyes.
"You'll be happy here." I was wiping away tears, though I knew this was for the best. "And you will see me again. I promise you."
Alice arrived at that moment... and when she saw Doorstop, she began weeping tears of gratitude and joy. I left shortly thereafter, telling myself I had done a good thing bringing Doorstop into my sister's home.
Time would show how right I was.
Summer 1994
Tommy and Doorstop never truly got along; she apparently was a great judge of character, just like myself. Tommy went so far as to rename her 'Ignatz', knowing full well that she was female. Further, when he and Alice moved into their new home, he went and got a third cat for 'himself'; a tom which he named 'Gofer'.
The move distressed Ignatz/Doorstop greatly; she spent most of her time behind their couch, and hid from all strangers.
"She won't come out." Alice warned me on my first visit to their new home. "Not for anyone."
"Really?" It had been nearly a year since I had seen the cat, but I just had to try something; I have a gift for mimicry. I tightened my throat, and gently called: "Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!"
"Rr-rr-rr-rr-t?!" The answering trill came instantly. Her head peeked out from her hiding place, and her eyes lit up when she saw me. "Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!!!" She trotted out and started twining herself about my legs, incredibly pleased to see me again.
Ignatz/Doorstop may be living with my sister... but she was still my cat. However, that is not to say that she did not love my sister...
Summer 1995
Alice was due to deliver in December, and she was truly beginning to show now. She rapidly discovered that the rumors were true: some cats get *VERY* skittish when they know a baby is on the way; Brutus and Gofer had become temperamental, and were regularly peeing and soiling the carpet to express their displeasure.
But only some cats act out when a baby is on the way...
It had started purely by chance, but now it had become a daily ritual: Alice reclined on the couch to relax, exposing her belly in the process. Ignatz/Doorstop would hop up and lie beside my sister, sniff and lick her belly, and press an ear to listen to the fetal heartbeat.
Alice started joking that she was just the surrogate, and Ignatz/Doorstop was the true mother to the child. Little did she know...
Spring 1996
After the delivery, Brutus and Gofer became outright belligerent: they regularly visited the nursery and hissed at the crib containing the interloper who had stolen the affection and attention which they felt was their due. But they never approached any closer than ten feet.
Standing between the toms and the target of their hatred was a small bundle of fluff, only half their size... but her ocean-blue eyes glared at them with a cold resolve that stopped them from advancing each time.
It was utterly apparent who really ruled the roost.
Alice was eternally grateful to Ignatz/Doorstop. For her regal manner in the face of such adversity, my sister bestowed the title of 'Princess' upon the feline. Now she had three names -- one negative, one positive, one neutral.
But the positive name was the one that would stick...
Autumn 1999
My sister's divorce was devastating. She couldn't keep the house that she loved, so she found a far smaller place for her child and three cats. (Her ex-husband Tommy left Gofer behind, even though that was 'his' cat.) The move was hard on all of them, and I visited immediately afterward to offer my support.
"Could you take one of them?" my sister burbled through her tears. I had recently gotten an apartment of my own, and now could keep a pet. "I mean, I still love them all, but-- Oh, no, NOT AGAIN!!!"
My sister was staring at a discolored spot on the carpet, still wet and quite fresh. Once more, the toms were deliberately peeing all around the house to express their displeasure.
My sister started sobbing hysterically. "I can't handle this! Tommy is always late with child support, my job is driving me crazy... it's too much! If you could just take one--"
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo?" The Princess had been attracted by my sister's outburst. The cat walked over to the urine stain, sniffed it... and hissed! Both my sister and I were stunned -- we had never seen her so upset!
The Princess glared across the room at Brutus; he looked utterly smug and self-satisfied. What could she do to him, he was twice her size--
The Princess raced across the room and assaulted Brutus like a demon unleashed. Within ten seconds he was retreating to the basement, wailing in fear, The Princess nipping at his tail every step of the way. A few moments later, Gofer's anguished cries of remorse joined his.
"So... uh..." My sister slowly regained her train of thought after being stunned by the spectacle we had just witnessed. "... as I was saying, if you could take just one of my cats--"
"The Princess."
"-- except for her --"
"No deal."
The cries from the toms grew in intensity. My sister smiled for the first time in weeks. "Maybe I can handle this..."
Within three weeks, both toms stopped peeing on the carpet... and they never did it again.
Summer 2000
"So good to see you again!" Alice smiled broadly as I walked in the door. I was going on vacation with her and her son, and we all had to leave together first thing the following morning. It just made sense for me to stay the night on her sofa bed. "Now, just set yourself down at the dinner table. My son and I have already eaten, but I'll warm you up something real quick."
My sister loves to cook, but she was pressed for time. Instead of the usual feast she would prepare for a guest, she warmed up some Kentucky Fried Chicken with all the fixings. She and her son went upstairs to finish packing, and the tomcats were playing in the basement. I had just sat down at the table to tuck in, when--
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!" The Princess had taken the seat next to mine; she was meowing, purring and trilling up a storm. She wasn't obviously begging for food -- she never did that -- but the proximity of both warm, fragrant fried chicken and my own physical presence was an irresistible combination for her. I was glad for her company; so much so that I deliberately did a very "stupid" thing: When I discovered the mashed potatoes were ice cold, I brought them into the kitchen... leaving the chicken unprotected on the dinner table.
As I popped the spuds into the microwave, I had no illusions about what was happening in the Dining Room... nor did I have a problem with it. I figured the inside of The Princess' mouth was cleaner than the inside of mine--
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!"
The sound came from directly behind me. Startled, I turned to find The Princess gazing up at me adoringly; she had left the warm chicken unmolested, and had chosen to stay close to me instead.
That's *LOVE*, folks. Don't try to tell me otherwise.
The Princess insisted on nestling up against me in the sofa bed all night long. That's when I learned that she purred in her sleep... at least, she did it when she was with me...
May 2002
"Feel here." I did as the veterinarian instructed, and found the tough, irregular nodule she was referring to. The Princess' appetite had been waning slowly for the past two months. Now we knew why...
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo?" The Princess gazed up at me curiously. She was not objecting to our probing, but I have no doubt she was confused.
"So..." I tried to swallow, but had no spit. "What are our options?"
The vet was completely honest with me: "We could try radiation and chemo, but the success rate is only around ten percent, with a life expectancy of 24 months. Plus there's the quality of life issue -- she'll lose much of her hair and all of her teeth... and she'll be in pain much of the time."
"And... if we do nothing?"
"She could live up to another year. She'll grow progressively weaker, but she won't be in pain."
"Not even at the very end?"
"No."
I looked down at The Princess. She was happy and content. Neither my sister nor I could truly afford to pay for the treatments... but even if I had the money, I could not see her suffer.
"Thank you, doctor. I think we'll take her home now."
The vet half-smiled at me. "I think that's the better choice."
April 2003
I went down into my sister's basement with a heavy heart. Alice needed to take her son into the city for a doctor's appointment which would take all day, but The Princess had become far too ill to be left alone for any length of time. I had not seen the cat in many months, and my sister warned me about what I would find...
The Princess no longer had the energy to move herself. Her food and water had to be brought to her, and she ate very little. She could not even walk to the litter box any more, but Alice never minded having to pick up her droppings... and the two toms would willingly clean and groom her afterward. All antipathy between the three of them evaporated as her illness progressed.
"Aa-rr-rr-rr-rr-oo!" The Princess had noted my approach, and took the effort to lift her head to look up at me. I saw absolutely no sign of pain in her ocean-blue eyes, and that gave me some comfort. I brought the food and water bowls close to her, and she took her fill, meager though it was. She was so thin that her ribs were visible; she looked like she'd be carried away in a strong wind...
When she was done, I scooped her up and nestled her in the crook of my left arm. She licked and groomed me, as she was wont to do. She gazed at me, utterly contented; she was exactly where she wanted to be. She purred and trilled until she closed her eyes and drifted into slumber... but she continued to purr for the next hour, until her breathing stopped. I felt her heartbeat flutter rapidly for another seven seconds before it ceased as well.
I just sat there until my sister returned, my vision blurred by my tears, feeling The Princess' body slowly growing cold. It made no sense that such a creature could have had such an enormous impact on me. After all, she was nothing more than a tiny bundle of fluff...
The Princess Ingatz D'oorstop
1990 - 2003
Requium in Pace
This piece is an entry for THE REAL LIVEJOURNAL IDOL SEASON EIGHT. If you enjoyed reading it, vote for it by clicking here. My check box is 17th from the top.