Midnight Magic

My sons were in their teens when they came home from their friend’s house.

“Mom,” my younger son, Jim said, “Chris’s mom’s cat is pregnant.”

My first thought was “so what?” but rather than utter that thought aloud, I answered him with, “I thought she had two dogs. When did she get a cat?”

Ken, my older boy replied, “She doesn’t exactly have a cat, but she feeds all the stray cats in her neighborhood and noticed that one is pregnant.”

Now I asked, “Okay, so why are you telling me?”

Jim responded, “She asked if we’d take a kitten when they’re born.”

In the past few months, we had found it necessary to put our beloved dog to sleep. He’d gotten sick and incapacitated with cancer. We felt, with the pain he was obviously in, it was in his best interest to have him put down rather than see him suffer. He was barely walking and sitting was a chore. It was clear that anything other than lying on his side, was extremely painful. As I said, my boys were in the mid-teens, and we’d had dogs since before they were born. I wasn’t really interested in having a cat, or for that matter, wasn’t yet interested in replacing my dog. I just wasn’t ready.

“Aw, come on, Mom,” Jim began, “you love animals and Mrs. T is trying to get as many cats off the streets as possible. If she can save this litter, she’d really be grateful.”

I had only met Chris’ mom once and felt a little annoyed that she would take the liberty of asking if I would assume the responsibility of a pet I hadn’t yet seen. To make her request even more absurd was the fact that rather than call me directly, she went through my kind-hearted sons. I felt she was totally wrong. But, I said nothing.

“Mom, please at least think about it,” Jim pleaded. “It’s only one cat! Ken and I promise to take care of it.”

“Tell me how you plan on taking care of an animal whose species is known for its independence. Explain to me what your plans are for this cat you want me to take.”

I kept the impatience out of my voice but emitted the seriousness of the situation.

“We’ll make sure it’s fed every day, and we’ll make sure it has plenty of milk to drink, and ...”

“And stop right there!” I demanded. “You clearly don’t know much about cats. Kittens really aren’t supposed to drink any milk but what comes from their mothers. While they can drink milk as adult cats, they should do so only on rare occasions. They lack a special enzyme in their stomachs that allows them to easily digest it, so before you badger me into taking a kitten, you might want to visit the library, and read up on the care of kittens and cats.”

They looked bewildered. They had no idea that cats shouldn’t have a steady diet of milk. All they knew was what they had seen on the television and in movies.

They scurried out the door, and my first thought was, “omg, what have I done? Have I just agreed to adopt a cat?”

This was at a time when home internet wasn’t even a thought in anyone’s mind and as far as I knew, there were very few homeowners that owned a computer. Anything we wanted to know had be looked up in the library.

It seemed as though my sons were gone a long time and that worried me a bit. Were they really that serious about having a cat that they’d spend an hour or more in the library rather than gathering their friends for a game of baseball in the park?

I thought again, “oh boy! I am in so much trouble.” I really didn’t want a cat but then, I also didn’t want to disappoint my sons.

The library was a short fifteen-minute walk away from my house; I expected them back within the hour realizing their lack of knowledge. There was much to learn regarding a member of the feline family. I wasn't sure if we'd for cat owners.

Another hour passed by; so, I anxiously waited.

A total of two and a half hours passed and finally they walked through the front door with a small stack of papers in their hands.

“Mom, instead of lugging all the books home, we made notes. Mom, did you know that cats can get leukemia?”

“Yes, I heard that. Joyce mentioned it when she was taking her cat to the veterinarian for her injections.”

“Mom, did you know that if you declaw a cat, it could interfere with how they pee?”

Ken chimed in, “Yeah, and it can cause them to stop using the litter box since they like to scratch at the litter and bury their poop”.

Jim finished with, “Yeah, and since they feel their claws are their protection, if they don’t have their claws, they might start biting.”

Before I thought what I should say, I found myself saying, “All true but if we ever did have a cat, it would never be declawed. It’s not humane. Can you imagine the pain the little animal would go through and the risk of infection?”

My sons picked up this verbal flaw before I did.

“Mom, does that mean that you’d really consider us taking one?”

That’s when it hit me. “Holy crap, what did I just do?”

I relented. “Okay, first of all, what color is this cat that happens to be pregnant? I hope you realize that I plan on being extremely fussy about what cat we choose. Got it?”

Jim spoke, “Mom, it’s a tabby cat. It might be a gray stripe or orange stripe. We just don’t know yet.”

OMG! I thought. An orange cat! No way will I take an orange cat! I can tolerate a gray one but definitely not orange. I might get out of this yet.

“Absolutely, Mom. What are your conditions?”

Thinking that I had them cold with this list, I uttered: “First, it must be a female. Secondly, it has to be all black. I don’t want black and white, or back and gray. All black or no deal, and finally, it has to have blue eyes, not green.”

Okay, I’m thinking. How on earth will they get all those conditions in one cat?

“When are the kittens expected?” I asked.

Ken spoke, “About two weeks.”

“I hope you both realize that even if we see the cat we want, we can’t take her for about six weeks. She will need to be weaned first.”

Jim said, “We know, Mom. We read about that in the library.”

I finally gave in. “Okay, then, tell Chris’ mom that providing my conditions are met, I’ll take that one cat.”

The boys were beyond excited. They called Chris immediately.

Weeks passed and Chris called.

“Hey, Mrs. B. Congratulations!”

“Wait, what? Congratulations for what?”

“You’re the proud owner of a cat. Hold on, Mom wants to talk to you.”

Angela got on the phone and said, “Donnie, you’re not going to believe this. You must be some kind of witch or something, but the cat had exactly thirteen kittens. The last one out, the runt of the litter is completely all black, and she has blue eyes! Exactly what you wanted! I know how excited you must be so as soon as she’s weaned, Chris and Johnny will bring her to you.”

YIKES!

I took my sons to the local pet shop and instructed them to find a cat bed, food and water bowls, a pet collar, litter box and litter, and whatever else they thought we’d need. Fifty dollars later, we left the store with items for a pet that I never thought I’d own.

As we looked around the house, we wondered if there was anything we should move out of the way. I called my friend, Joyce and asked. She said that she never moved anything, and her cats never bothered with her knick-knacks. The only thing her cats did that was annoying was to sit on the table and/or the refrigerator. She had yet to break them of that habit.

Oh, well, time will tell how house broken I can make our new family addition.

Six weeks later, Angela called to tell that her sons were on their way over with my kitten. I just loved (sarcasm, here) how she emphasized the word “my” (meaning "your").

Chris, like my sons, wasn’t yet old enough to drive but his older brother, Johnny was. The two boys with my new kitten were on their way to my house.

It was unbelievable. Like Angela, I was shocked when Chris and Johnny walked into my home, carrying a small box that held a tiny all black, female kitten with bright blue eyes.

Chris asked, “Mrs. B., what do you think you’re going to call her?”

I answered, “Chris, that’s easy. Her name will be Midnight Magic. Midnight because she’s all black, and Magic because her presence defies all explanation. It was either kismet, or just plain Magic!”