The Great Cat Compromise

forward
THE MID-1990S found me in my mid-30s living with many cats in a converted chicken house on mom and dad's property. We'd lived there off and on over the years. During this latest stint, I was recovering from tough life lessons, heart-broken, disillusioned and financially, mentally ¬and spiritually bankrupt. We lived an idyllic, if rustic life there for a couple years. Mom helped me care for the cats. With her typical open-arm policy, she embraced and loved them wholeheartedly, in lieu of any grandchildr¬en I might have owed her.
     In the late 1990s, her health began a downward spiral and I felt the winds of change. I asked myself, "What will I do with all these cats if I have to move?" Finding a landlord to rent to someone with even one cat is impossible enough, let alone a houseful. Getting rid of them was out of the question. Each is a beloved friend and irreplaceable member of my family.

1 - THE HOUSE

2 - The Compromise . . .
     One cat is hard on a house. Twenty-one cats are murder! This house at 7th & Prairie is the first I’ve lived in without worrying what the cats are doing to it, without worrying about losing a deposit or upsetting a landlord.
     How do you keep 21 cats from scratching furniture? You don't. We prefer furniture that is virtually indestructible or so worthless it doesn't matter if it gets shredded. The cats don't get scolded for scratching the furniture, though scratching posts are around. Stress vanishes when one realizes chairs and couches are replaceable at a flea market for next to nothing. It's a matter of priorities.
     To carpet downstairs, Dad found some earth-tone carpet discarded by a bank. It isn't beautiful or luxurious, but is practical. The cats can have all the accidents they want, and it doesn't matter. It's just an old carpet - free and easily cleaned.
     For upstairs, I bought 100 carpet samples from an outlet that sells discontinued home improvement items. The floor is a smorgasbord of color and texture It's a bit much for some people, but I love it. Best of all, these individual samples are cheaply and easily replaced when necessary.
     In a multiple-cat household, there are always cats who refuse to use the litter box, no matter what. Though sometimes it's because something is physically or emotionally wrong, it is mostly because some cats don't like to "go" inside or where other cats have gone (and cats are non-cooperative by nature).
     Although some cats go in a sink or bathtub (which is wonderful), most choose the carpet. I've adopted the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" attitude. When errant kitties (four at this writing) choose a spot on the carpet, I keep fresh newspapers down in that spot. Though it isn't exactly the way I want it, the compromise works. Changing them is a daily chore, but it saves on the carpet, and saves us that whole level of litter-box and struggle-for-control stress. And again, getting rid of the contrary cats is not an option.
     On daily scooping rounds, there are plenty of "out-of-bounds" accidents to tend to. We go through a lot of 409 and paper towels. If there's not poo on the dining room floor, someone's hocked up a hairball on the piano or in my bedroom doorway ... such is the rhythm of life.
     Having company used to be stressful. I was full of apologies. Sorry about the smell. Sorry about the cat drinking from your cup. Sorry about the cat hair. Sorry about the shredded furniture. Sorry about Cecilia using your head for a launching pad ...
     I'm through with apologies. The house belongs to the cats and was bought for the sole purpose of having a suitable home for them. They can do anything they want whenever they want, as long as it isn't harmful. Now I'm more likely to apologize to them for having tacky guests who don't respect or appreciate them for the wonderful creatures they are (which hardly happens).
     The house is kept as clean as humanly possible. But there are times when I can't keep up. I don't fret, but do what I can when I can. If a guest doesn't like the "cat" smell, the sight of a hairball on the coffee table, or a stray poopy-bomb on the dining room carpet, well, we have two doors, and they are welcome to either one. I don't want anyone in my house who doesn’t love and respect my children. It’s a whole new spin on the phrase, “Love me, love my cat!” (And yes, I’ve resigned myself to remaining single the rest of this lifetime!)
     It’s all about the cats. Everything in the house is geared toward living with them: furniture, carpet, decorations (or lack thereof), schedule, budget…They come first. All of this constitutes the Great Cat Compromise, which I keep telling myself has just got to be racking up beaucoup positive karmic points!

next: 3 - Multi-Tasking

 
from michael's
new book

Epistle – stories & essays