Our cat, Benjamin, was one cool cat. And he was a very well behaved cat--for the most part. He never clawed furniture, would sit in my lap (with his back to me) while I did needlework and never play with the threads, and we never--truly never--found any evidence that he had jumped onto the kitchen counters or the dining table. (That's a picture of Benjamin on Jo's shoulder) He did, however, have a couple of specific character traits that made him very "interesting" to live with.
Jon liked him a lot and Benjamin honored him with his purring presence whenever he visited--which was not a treat that Benjamin dished out to everyone who came to our house. That cat recognized a gentle, fun-loving soul when he met one, that's for sure.
One summer, Pamela, Peter and Jon planned one of their annual trips to visit family and friends on the east coast. The plan was: while Peter was doing a round of business meetings, and Jo and I were house-sitting for friends on Nantucket, Pamela and Jon would fly into Newark, rent a car, stay over night at our house in Newton then drive to Pittsburgh and then return to Newton to meet up with us when we got back home. During all of our pre-trip planning chats, both Jo and I alerted Pamela and Jon to the fact that Benjamin the cat was used to our early morning natures--and that over the years living with him, he had become what one might call our alarm clock. I remember telling Pamela that if he started bothering them too early to just speak firmly to him and shut him out of the room.
I'm not sure I gave her fair enough warning as to just how loud Ben's voice was. Or...that Benjamin had very specific ideas about his feeding schedule--and felt it should not vary. Very early on in his life with us, Ben taught us that he meant business about his need for a specific routine: when we came downstairs one morning and found a new bag of cat food in the middle of the kitchen floor, torn open, and almost empty--we got the message. After that, we hid it in a high cupboard his paws could not reach...just in case we were late getting home in the evenings.
OK...back to our story about Pamela and Jon alone in our house with Benjamin the cat with strong opinions...
Once we were all reunited here in Newton, I asked Pamela if she and Jon had had any trouble with Benjamin during their overnight. I was dismayed to hear that Benjamin had let loose with his daily clarion call at 5 AM (which was 2AM for Pamela's California time) OK...so it's more accurately described as mighty and persistent yowling-- and that no amount of her scolding could shut him up.
Just as I was started to launch into my apology, Pamela shook her head and chuckled as she went on with her story: "But that's only half of the story," she said. "Jon and I got an early start on our drive to Pittsburgh. And, of course, being a growing boy he seemed hungry all the time. In no time he had finished off the few snacks in the car. Jon began pleading hunger and I kept putting him off, asking him to wait a few more miles..."
Pamela paused, to hold back a laugh, and then continued. "Pretty soon, Jon stopped pleading and I assumed he had settled down...but after a few quiet miles in the car, odd sounds started coming from Jon's side of the car. It was quiet at first...and it took me a moment to realize what he was doing:
Jon was meowing.
I chuckled and said, 'I promise we'll stop for lunch, in about half an hour.'
He meowed louder.
I laughed and said, 'I promise, it won't be long.'
Jon only meowed louder, and louder...until he was yowling just like Benjamin--with a big grin on his face!!...It was clear--just like Benjamin, he wasn't going to stop until he got some food. What could I do? I pulled off at the very next food exit."
That's Our Jon!
Love the story, and I can just see Brady doing the same sort of thing. He was trained by the master you know. ;>)
Posted by: Kelly | 06/04/2009 at 05:17 PM