Liberation From Idaho
Julius is our Idaho cat. We were visiting relatives in Idaho Falls a few summers ago. A tiny orange and white kitten with a pronounced limp kept coming into their backyard. We walked up and down the street knocking on doors asking if anyone knew to whom he belonged. We could find no information on his ownership, so my children and I officially declared him to be a stray. My husband, predicting the onslaught from his wife and children, began to formulate his strongest list of reasons why this kitten was not coming home with us.
The kitten was transported to the local vet where, after a two-day stay, lots of exams and x-rays, the vet declared he was baffled as to the source of the limp. By this time our children and I had made an emotional investment, not to mention a significant financial one! My husband, sensing an upcoming defeat, wisely decided to surrender diplomatically. We packed up the car and squeezed the tiny orange and white bundle in for the 12-hour trip back to Sacramento. He enjoyed every second of the long trip, moving from lap to lap, purring at the top of his lungs. The many hours allowed lots of time to debate the best name for our little charge. Orange Julius someone finally suggested and that was that.
When we arrived in Sacramento, Julius jumped out of the car and walked into his new home with no hint of a limp. Could this possibly have been one of the great scams undertaken by an Idaho cat to ensure a new life in California? Later we learned from our relatives that their neighbors returned from vacation and started looking for their kitten. For a moment we felt slightly guilty until we heard that this was the third kitten they had lost in a month, that they had left Julius outside while they went on vacation and the 16-year old primary owner has been comforted on the loss of her kitten by a new car. We all agreed that Julius’ exaggerated limp to ensure his liberation from Idaho had been a very well planned escape plot and we quickly came to terms with the fact that we had been so thoroughly duped by such a tiny little creature.
Julius immediately took on the role of family dog, much to the surprise of the real family dogs. There has never been a time that we drive up to our house that Julius doesn’t dart out of the bushes and race up to the car to meet us. He rolls on his back with his legs in the air. He has never caught a bird and brought it to us for viewing or scratched the sofa. He likes to be brushed and is allergic to milk. He walks around the block with us when we take the ‘other dogs’ on a walk. If he were to bark, we would not be in the slightest bit surprised.
He has managed over time to bend occasionally and then completely break my husband’s No Cats on the Bed Rule. He has persuaded my husband that he can only exit the house via the front door. For the rest of us, he comes and goes through whatever window or door happens to be most open and most handy. But for my husband, he winsomely meows until the front door is opened for his convenience. If he wants to go out during the night, he finds something heavy on the bedside table and deliberately knocks it to the floor waiting for the loud noise to rouse us. He has been known on more than one occasion to push the on button on the bedside clock radio while standing on the volume button. The result is instantaneous – he is immediately escorted out of the house! Julius and my husband have evolved a morning ritual. Julius waits outside the shower and as soon as my husband exits, he jumps in (often leaving muddy paw prints) to lick the remaining water. As soon as my husband is poised at the sink to shave, Julius jumps up to watch intently, while scooping water with his paw from the faucet into his open mouth.
One day, Julius went missing and was found cowering in the basement. Upon closer examination he was bleeding from some important lower area and looked dazed. I gathered him in my arms, yelled for my husband to start the car and we set out for the vet. My head was swimming with options for his medical care. Just when I was mulling over whether I could donate one of my kidneys to keep Julius alive, I heard the voice of my husband. “We should just make sure he’s comfortable.” This is code for we are not going to spend a fortune keeping this cat alive. Fortunately, my husband and I did not have to go toe to toe on this as the vet decided that Julius had probably been hit by a car and that the best course of action was to monitor him at home. This incident turned out to be one of those rare win-win-win situations. Julius recovered completely, I got to keep my kidney to be donated at a later time, and my husband was astounded at how reasonable the vet bill was.
My husband has recently instituted the No Transportation of Kittens across State Lines rule. This is a companion rule to the No More Search and Rescue Missions to the Pound or the SPCA rule. We are preparing our counter arguments.
Gillian Parrillo
The Sacramento Executive
