I have a new playtoy -- an electric wheelchair! It has taken a few weeks for me (and the cats!) to get used to it. For my part, I have had to learn not to drive too fast (no comments about women drivers allowed!) and not to run into furniture "while" driving too fast! The cats have exhibited different kinds of cat wisdom, each in his/her own way!

Creampuff, who is a 7-year-old "kitten" in a 22-lb marmalade body, just wants to ignore the interloper. If we should, by chance, meet at each end of the hallway, he back-peddles into "his" bedroom and retreats under the bed. He knows the doorway is too narrow and I can't get in there, but he isn't taking any chances!

Baby, who is the aggressive Cat-in-Charge who has managed to subdue and terrify Gizzi, is too smart to play with the thing that moves so fast in her house. She has been known to jump up into it at times, but her "sleeping place" is still the cat tree, where she can keep an eye on things!

Precious, little Persian darling that she is, likes to sleep in "Speedy." She is too sweet to "fight" me for it, but I am well aware that she doesn't like to be moved from it.

Bon Bon has adopted the chair as her own property. She sleeps in it whenever she can get me or Precious out of it. She actually fights me for it -- soft bites and paws, but no less determined! When she sees that she isn't going to win, she leaps up onto the narrow back of the chair -- and does her cute thing. She stays there as I travel "slowly" down the hall, glad to go for a "ride!" She leans on me and I talk to her softly. It is a special time for both of us.

Which brings us to Gizzi. Gizzi is the most interesting cat I have ever known, except for my beloved Siamese, T'Chan (Rainbow Bridge). Gizzi is a warrior cat, and he meets the wheelchair as an adversary! He waits in the kitchen, lying on the floor, but alert and ready for action. When he hears me coming, he sits up. He lets me get -- moving "very" slowly -- about two feet from him, then he attacks (my legs) and yells and bolts for the nearby table. He is "not" afraid -- when he reaches the table, he is triumphant! He has lived to strike again, another day! (I don't pet him for a while -- it would mar his victory -- but after a while I kiss him and tell him what a brave cat he is!

Life goes on -- sometimes I forget just why! But I know that life without my cats would not be worth living!

Copyright © Renee Darvin
November 30, 2000