Oh, Kali cat

Let me tell you a story of the Kali cat.

Once upon a time, my mother worked at a video store. Her boss had a shit for a boyfriend and he uttered the ultimatum, "It's me or the cat" and the boss chose the boyfriend. (Twice, he did this again to another cat. Well, two cats.)
And so, somewhere in '97 or so, we wound up with another cat. We'd gotten Tigger not too long before and it took him more than a decade to live down his greeting of the Kali. He sauntered over to the carrier she was in, stuck his nose in to sniff (as you do) and then reached a tiny little kitten paw inside and smacked her. Years to live that down.
Thing is, she was a bit of a fraidy cat when we first got her and she hid under chairs and behind the sofas and basically was a ghost cat. I remember overhearing my parents talking about how maybe she just wasn't a good fit for our family, and I sat on the floor near one of the chairs where she was hiding and pleading with her to come out because if she didn't, she'd have to go away again. I don't know if the parentals heard or what, but eventually the Kali cat decided on a person.
Naturally, since she was supposed to be Mom's cat, she chose Dad. I used to tease him about him being the one who wanted to give her away and he'd shush me. :P My father adored that cat to the point that after we moved and my brother got stupid and left the back door open and all the cats except for one escaped (he'd lived on the mean kitty streets, the outside held no allure for him. Ever.) I was sure my father was going to murder my brother when the only one who didn't come right back was Kali. She stayed up in a tree for a night and then disappeared into the neighborhood for three days before returning on the fourth morning, waiting on the front porch for someone to let her in. She then sashayed inside like it wasn't a big deal and demanded food and lovings and dammit, she wanted them right then.

She was spoiled rotten (sometimes Dad would even admit it) and she adored Dad right back. When he had to go away for a work weekend, she would howl miserably. When he worked from home, she was thrilled. She used to know the sound of the truck and would run to his chair to greet him. On weekends, you'd find them in his chair, Kali perched on the arm, watching god knows what. If you wandered by my parents room in the middle of the night, he would ask for a glass of milk. For the cat. (Yes, I know and you know about cats and milk but she was actually pretty good with it for years.)

She escaped a couple more times, but always returned. She had a habit of falling through the screen in her favorite window and after awhile she would hop back into the window or yowl until someone retrieved her.

Which was tricky because she hated being picked up. She'd squawk and freak out and then purr... for me. I'm not sure anyone else got the purr or the abbreviated squawk. It used to drive Dad nuts that she'd let him get away with everything else BUT picking her up without a massive to do about it. We used to joke that in case of fire, everyone else would need to figure their own way out of the house because Dad would be too concerned with getting Kali to safety. And by joke I mean this was a completely serious thought.

She wasn't a super snuggly cat, but she'd sleep above your head on your pillow and of my friends, Ari was her favorite for awhile. (zallia might've bumped Ari out of top spot) She would make your life miserable if you didn't have at least a bag of Kali approved snacks on hand and on more than one occasion emergency trips to the store were made for snacks to hush her. (She knew when you were lying about having any!)

It took years for her to try and swipe any people food and the first thing I remember her stealing was turkey on Thanksgiving.

She was one of those cats who would get really mean on catnip so it was best if you didn't give her any, but good lord would she play with those feather toys until Angel would destroy them.

I honestly thought she'd die of a broken heart when he died and then... she didn't. She chose Mums as her second human (not that I was bitterly jealous or anything) and was nice to Widget for a bit.

After Dad stopped working at home, she'd only venture to other parts of the house aside from the parentals' room and the living room (with summers on the porch) once a season. So you felt kind of special when she'd make her seasonal perusal of your room. She'd howl at 3am, demanding food even though she wouldn't really eat it until 5 even if you gave it to her early.

She and Ozma never really hung out. She was a tiny pawed little tortoiseshell kitty and I will miss her horribly.


I was at work when she died this morning. I hope she's with Dad, chewing on his glasses because she really liked to do that.