Cato
Pet Feed
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Cat GameBy George Kubala
(Rhymes with Dollar)
This is a true story about Cato De Kitten and how he spent one or two of his allocated but not guaranteed nine lives.
During the early fall of 1995, a neighbor found a black cat in my apartment building and brought him to me. He assumed my cat, Joseph De Katt had gotten lost and was returning Joseph to me. Joseph, Like Cato was as black as the devils right eye.
I explained the situation and said I would feed Cato and try to find a home for him. He was probably abandoned by everyone i ncluding his mother. I knew I was breaking a basic rule in committing myself to feeding him which was “no good deed goes unpunished”. Anyhow that is how Cato De Kitten got stuck with me.
December 20th , 1995 was a very short day for most New Yorkers, but a very long day for Cato. During a snowfall, I thought it would be fun for Joseph and Cato to romp in the snow. It was 9 am. Joseph, all 16 + pounds of him, immediately rolled on his back in the snow and meowed as if I was torturing him. He was the kind of cat that expected at least three days notice before you brushed him. He probably thought it was insane for anyone to expect him to enjoy getting his paws cold and wet. Joseph’s cat tale is even more interesting than Cato’s but leave that for another time.
Cato’s reaction to the snow was to race across the yard like a cat out of hell and began climbing a 90’ high maple tree. His first stop was at the 20’ level. He was having fun and refused to be coaxed down. The wind picked up and more snow started to fall.
Let me give you more background on the main character in this tale (whether or not you are interested – I am telling the story). Cato is a certified mischief-maker. I will give an exceptionally good example. One afternoon, I noticed Joseph in a terrified state of mind. His eyes were open to the near exploding point staring at my vacuum cleaner. Joseph had always been terrified of the vacuum cleaner when it was running. It however was in the off position, and then the vacuum cleaner moved a bit. Cato’s head popped out from behind the cleaner (much like a truck driver’s head sticking out of a window when driving the truck in very slow traffic). It appeared that Cato was intentionally pushing the vacuum cleaner toward Joseph. The combination for a very light cleaner and a hardwood floor made this possible. Was Cato doing something that Homo sapiens would describe as intelligent? Most, if not all Homo sapiens experts on animal intelligence would probably say it was a combination of coincidences with no devious intelligent intent by Cato. I am almost convinced that Cato knew what he was doing. Now back to the exciting conclusion of Cato’s Longest Day.
Cato was now in the maple tree for over four hours and light snow was coming down. The wind and cold were my biggest concerns. Cato was only six or seven months old. A telephone call to the local NYC fire department got response as cold as the weather.
Neighbors watched from their windows as Cato’s desperate meows became increasingly frenzied. He was covered with snow. Kids make remarks like, “let’s get a garden hose and squirt him down” and, “let’s knock him off the branch with a snowball”. It was an awful experience.
A neighbor, Bill, volunteered to assist Cato with his climbing gear, he got very close to the terrified kitten but then Cato climbed even higher.
Cato was now about thirty feet high. I decided it would be best to leave him alone for a while. I asked the kids to watch him and made a trip to the firehouse. Fireman x (would not give his name) and fireman xx (supposedly in charge) said they were too busy to help and that I shouldn’t bother them anymore. I later requested an activity report for this firehouse; they had three calls for the entire day. All were non-events or false alarms.
4 pm and the sun was setting. I got a hammer and nails from my apartment. I tore up someone’s wooden fence and started nailing boards to the tree to make rungs I could climb on.
The wood was rotten and would not hold my muscular 207 plus pounds (my story) . I gave up that risky idea.
Nine pm, Cato had been in the freezing wind and snow for 12 hours. His meowing had a tone of desperation to it. I needed help to help Cato. My neighbor Halima volunteered. We tried building a narrow bridge from the fourth floor apartment window to the branch in the tree that Cato was on. We used aluminum gutter material I found in the basement. The bridge was about four inches wide and thirty feet long. It was wrapped in towels and clothes line so that Cato’s paws would hopefully be able to get a grip. We pushed it from the window towards Cato who was now about at the sixty foot level in the tree. We almost succeeded, but with inches to go the “Rube Goldberg” bridge twisted and collapsed.
A little later, Luis, the building superintendent and his friend, Roberto, offered their assistance in building another bridge. This was going to be the little guy’s last chance. When the bridge was finished, Luis and Roberto pushed the bridge out of my apartment window toward Cato. I supported and guided the bridge with a rope from the roof. At last success.
The bridge was placed right next to Cato. The wind picked up and the tree swayed violently. A few neighbors who had watched the ordeal with me from my apartment sensibly cautioned against risking anymore human life. I agreed I would only watch Cato for his last few hours and take no further desperate action.
A little while later, Cato De Kitten made another bad mistake. He attempted to jump from one branch to another. He wound up with his front paws on one branch and rear ones on another with the wind whipping him and the branches every which way. He was in an impossible situation. Thankfully, it couldn’t last long.
People ran downstairs in an attempt to catch Cato in a blanket. The snow below was packed to ice from so many people walking on it. Cato wasn’t able to hang on long enough. His soft furry body hit the icy frozen ground almost silently. It was as if a black ghost sailed past my window on some strange mission. I remember feeling a terrible sadness while watching his black fur being blown about by the wind.
Was Cato De Kitten gone? What do you think? What do you really think? Give yourself five seconds to come out with a story ending answer: 1,2,3,4,5.
Hey, you didn’t forget the introduction to this story, did you?
“… How he spent one or two of his allocated but not guaranteed nine lives.” Of course Cato survived. I wouldn’t it any other way and neither would Cato. Sure Cato De Kitten was gone but he had to become Cato De Cat sooner or later. Most kittens prefer a less dramatic transformation. Amazingly he only broke a toe from about a 90 foot fall. He did very little but sleep for almost two days.
Incidentally, while I was bringing Cato back to my apartment from his ordeal, I would have appreciated a thank you kind of a meow or a bit of a lick on my hand. He gave me what I probably deserved – he dropped a steaming, stinking, and sticky scat on top of one of my ever so weary feet. From his point of view I was at least a bit sadistical for torturing him in this foul weather instead of pampering him with food and letting him sleep on my bed. Oh well, as I said before, “No good deed goes unpunished”.
Update 04/07
Cato went on with the now late great Joseph De Katt to invent the Rock-N-Roll Cat Feeder. It makes a cat or dog work for his/her food and the amount of work required can be adjusted. Cato can be seen performing in various cat commercials. His favorite is http://www.catutopia.com/testimonials.htm.
He is very well compensated – even higher than union scale. His partner in the commercial is usually Ollie Oliver who I rescued from a garbage can last year. If Ollie was human his looks rating would be higher than Clark Gable. He is a challenge and an armful. I expect that in rescuing him I will sooner or later, for the zillionth time experience that, “No good deed goes unpunished”. You can keep undated on stories about Joseph De Katt Cato and Ollie Oliver at the website previously mentioned or call (718) 779-1542.
Bye,
G.K.
