My Second Best Girl: Sophie.

Sophie

Cats. I like cats. But I haven't liked cats forever. I read that the Spaniards brought domestic cats to the new world.  Did you know they can make over one hundred sounds. I thought they could only "meow". My relationship with cats is relatively short. I've never had a pet since childhood.  When I was a little boy my sister and I  each had a kitten. Unfortunately, mine got bitten by a snake and died. That was the last pet I had except for a goldfish. My daddy always had hunting dogs, but they weren't pets. Then, when I was nigh on to sixty years old I married a lady with two cats. Marshmallow was an orange point Himalayan and Shadow was something else. Shadow was very old and finicky, but Marshie took to me right away. A few years later Marshie died suddenly of an apparent heart attack and Shadow followed later of old age. She was seventeen.

A few years later we decided that we had a mouse problem and went shopping for a cat. We found one at the shelter. There were a lot of cats at the shelter; big ones and  small ones in all different colors.  But we found the one we wanted in a cage all by herself. There was a note saying she did not play well with other cats. But that was not a problem for us so we took her home. I named her Sophie for the French actress Sophie Marceau. Remember her? She met Mel Gibson in that tent in the movie "Braveheart". Sophie is a big kitty at over thirteen pounds. Her front climbing gear had been removed. The house's curtains and upholstery was safe.  We determined she was a Norwegian Forest Cat. I have become quite fond of Sophie. Sure enough she did not get along with other cats. When a daughter brought her cat with her when she visited, Sophie  hissed and was hardly cordial. We have not had other cat visitors.

She is not real crazy about people either. When we have guests she rarely makes an appearance. I can understand why she hates children. They always want to to fondle and cuddle.  If they show her any affection she rarely responds. It is not always easy living with an antisocial cat. I've learned a bit about cats though. Sophie seems to favor almost anyone who offers food, but not always. I have seen visitors try to befriend her with all kinds of kitty treats and she will refuse the most delectable. Toys are no temptation from a stranger either. I don't quite understand it but Sophie is fond of me and I offer neither food nor treats. She is overly fond of Claudette, but then,  Claudette is the one who feeds her. I do not. But she is part of my daily routine. 

When we first got Sophie she would only "say" "meow". However, after being with us a while her vocabulary has increased exponentially. I have counted over twenty-five different sounds she makes. She is very good at begging when she wants to go out on the back porch.  It is saddening to hear her cry when she discovers one of us has left the house. I think she has trained us very well. I awake early, about five or so. Groggily I walk downstairs and position myself on the sofa facing the television, in a semi-reclining position.  I nod off and continue a night of slumber. Almost immediately, or so it seems, ( I have no concept of time while asleep.) I am awakened by a "meow" of nearly ninety decibels. (OSHA requires hearing protection in an environment with a noise level above ninety decibels.)  Sophie has arrived! She will then climb aboard my stomach,  dispersing her body weight via her four feet and lie there purring. A warm, purring, thirteen pound, ball of fur. 

Life is good!