Adventures with a Fraidy Cat

Over the years as the kids have moved out on their own they have left behind various items. Old stuffed toys, an orange electric guitar, assorted cow bones, award plaques, and old report cards are just some of the debris left in the attic.

One item that we acquired possession of was a tabby cat named Periander. Peri had been snatched from a barn and we soon discovered that one of her parents was feral. Since we had possessed a cat that was half feral before, we knew that any ideas of completely domesticating her would come to no avail. She would always be a fraidy cat, and she has proved that to be true over the last ten years.

The main reason that we have Periander is that she has always intensely disliked Hannah, even though she was originally given to her as a gift. To this day when she visits, Peri will bare her teeth and hiss and growl. The cat then escapes from the room. Of course, she does this to everyone on occasion, but she always greets my daughter that way. When she moved she decided that Periander wouldn’t want to go with her. That girl has always been astute.

So, joy oh joy, we got Periander!

Now if you come to my house to visit you will not see this cat, hear this cat, or even know she exists. Our house sitter, Kathy K., who has fed the animals on extended vacations over the last two years has never seen the cat. Once she saw a blur disappear into the back room when she laid her hand on the lump under our bedcovers, but she has never actually seen Periander (or, as Kathy K. calls her, Lumpy).

When it is just Russ and myself at home Peri joins us wherever we are. She rubs up against us for pets and will jump onto our lap and nestle in. But all of this is on her terms. We do not pick her up or restrain her because if we do she growls and hisses and fights to get away.

In January of 2006, I had foot surgery. Within a few days my daughter Elisabeth came to clean the house and catch up on laundry. I got the privilege of retiring upstairs to the spare bedroom to read Karl and Dominic, my grandsons, their favorite books.

The sun warmed the love seat that we sat on and we snuggled in and spent an enjoyable two hours together reading, talking, singing, sharing tickles and laughter.

Early afternoon we headed downstairs for the lunch that Elisabeth prepared. The boys scampered ahead and I clumsily negotiated the stairs. After lunch, Karl grabbed his favorite toy, Randy the moose, and wanted Monya to come back upstairs to read. "Let’s sit on the comfy couch, it’s nice," he said.

"Monya, can’t do the stairs again, Karl. Her foot is too tired. Why don’t you just go up with Randy. You can read to him, and I’ll talk to mama." Satisfied, he shot upstairs carrying Randy and some books. All was quiet and Elisabeth and I settled in the living room. I reclined on the couch with my foot propped up and Dominic was playing quietly nearby with blocks.

Suddenly we heard a shrill, piercing scream followed by loud sobs.

"Oh, my gosh, what’s happening?" we cried in unison as Elisabeth bolted up the stairs.

I could hear Elisabeth soothing Karl and after a couple of minutes the crying stopped. Holding a sniffling Karl with Randy firmly clutched in his arms, she returned downstairs.

After getting Karl interested in the game Dominic was playing, she sat next to me on the couch.

"What happened up there?" I queried anxiously.

Speaking softly and smiling broadly, she said, "When I got up there Karl was huddled in the middle of the love seat, with his face buried in Randy’s fur and sobbing, ‘that noise, that noise, mama’."

"What noise, Karl?" I asked. "What noise?"

"That cat noise!"

"By then Karl was quieter and I heard the noise that he was talking about. Periander was trapped under the love seat and was spitting, hissing, and growling. Honestly, Mom, it sounded like she was going to tear through the bottom of the couch. Poor kid, I think he thought she was going to eat him."

We didn’t go back up to the love seat that day, in fact, it was many months before Karl wanted to snuggle on the comfy couch. But my foot is better, the couch is comfy again, and Periander has found a new hiding place for when the boys come to visit.