DO YOU ADOPT A CAT, OR IS IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND?

  By Juan Montoya

Sometime back, before our kids grew up and took off for college, there was, around the house, a cat which had lately been trying to ingratiate him(her?)self with mom and the kids.

Of course, the children put out milk in a small bowl and scraps of table food every once in a while, thereby guaranteeing that it would basically feel that it had been adopted by us (or is it the other way around?).

That reminded me of another cat many years ago. 

At that time, my ex-wife and three children ( a fourth would come later) lived out on Indiana Road close to the intersection with FM 802. The place was more rural than it is today and behind the two-story apartments run by a former Winter Texan and his wife there was still some virgin monte with characteristic thick thorny brush, mesquite and cactus everywhere.

Like the kids, my ex got adopted by a cat that would slink up to the back door and rub its body on her leg and purr. That bit of cat diplomacy was always sure to get her a bowl of milk and a bite.

Once my ex and I were in the living room and we heard a scratching on the screen door. We looked at each other and wondered what was doing that. 

When we looked through the screen door, the cat was perched on the thick branch of a tree by the door looking at us. We looked at the landing by the door and to our surprise, there lay a nice sized field mouse.

"She brought us a present," said my ex. "Look at her belly. I think she's going to have kittens."

Well, having even more cats around the house didn't exactly thrill me, but I didn't have the heart to tell a mother that I didn't want the other mother-to-be around.
Days passed and we heard the scratching at the screen door once again.

This time we looked at each other knowingly and went to the door. The cat – noticeably plumper – was again perched on the tree branch looking at us and at the big bird (a white-winged dove) lying on the landing.

"How on earth did it catch a bird?" I asked my former mate. "I am impressed."

Like the mouse before, we took the bird and threw it in the garbage can inside the apartment. The cat lingered by the door until she (now I knew it was a she) saw we had picked it up.

It was just a matter of days before the next scratching on the screen led us to the door. By now the cat was huge. But that didn't deter her from staring us while we looked down at the usual offering place.
There, instead of a field moue or a bird, lay an adult rabbit, the white fur fluffed around the bottom of its neck showing where the cat had seized it with her claws.
"A rabbit!" I said in wonder. "How on earth did she catch a rabbit the way she is?"

My ex didn't say a word. She just picked up the dead animal and took it inside. The cat waddled away.
How could she top that?, we wondered. What's it going to be next, a dog?

We didn't have to wait long. A couple of days later, on a Saturday morning when the kids were not in school, we heard the scratching on the screen door again.
This time, my ex and I and the kids went out to look. As usual, the cat was on the branch, but right below, on the landing was a wriggling ball of fur.

She had had her kittens.

Of course, the kids all wanted one for pet. And guess how many kittens she had brought to the door? Three, the exact number of children in our family.

Needless to say, until the cats grew up, were killed by passing cars, or just left, we had a yard full of cats.