Neighborhood Nightlife Episode 3: A Bit Of Jealousy

While you are sleeping, snug and comfy in your beds, dreams floating round in your heads, do you know what your cat is doing at that wee hour, when moon has risen high, wind has stilled, leaving the air thickly perfumed with night flowers?

Necco had spent the entire day in her guardians bedroom window staring through the shadowy trees at building one: more specifically at apartment sixteen. It was indeed a wasted vigil, because no matter how she strained her eyes, or squinted against the sun's brightness; she could not get a clear view of the only window of that apartment facing hers. But she could sense that there was a stranger there. Using the olfactory nerves in the roof of her mouth: tilting her nose upward, teeth bared, mouth apart, Necco tried to form a picture in her mind of this all white, fluffy queen that had just moved into the Rainbow Estates Senior Village.

She had seen a darker shadow under the shrub by the window for most of the morning. When the sun got too hot, the windows were closed and the air conditioner was turned on. The shadow she knew to be Thorny's, extracting information from the newcomer, had even taken off; back to his neighborhood of fancy houses, where he too, could doze away the hot afternoon in cool comfort.

Undaunted by the closed window and the heat of the blazing sun through the glass, Necco scrunched her body as far back onto the sill as she could go, into a tiny bit of shade the tree outside her window offered at that time of day, tucked her paws under chest and catnapped. Her ears turned forward, her eyes, only half closed, half dozing and half alert to any movement. A yellow butterfly flitted about from one flower to another, a spider that had completed a web from the edge of the widow sill to a nearby shrub, now sat in it's middle and waited for dinner guest. The hum of the air conditioner and the noise of the floor fans drowned out any other sound. But yet Necco stayed at her post. Determined.

Necco had not realized that this very obsessive behavior, to stay put, at all cost, just to get a glimpse of the new cat, would alarm her guardians, whom after a few hours of watching their little tortie suffering on the hot window sill, thought she was ill and phoned the vet's office.

Before Necco could blink twice she had been scooped from off the sill, placed into her cat carrier and shuffled out to the car. Hot at first, until the air-conditioner cooled the air, the backseat of the car was nearly unbearable. But off they went during rush hour traffic, three miles away to a pet clinic that specialized in cats. Within minutes Necco had been taken back to an examining room, extracted from her carrier with much protesting, and all four white paws thrust onto an icy-cold, metal table. Her male guardian was most distressed during the telling of his reason for bringing Necco to the doctor. "She's been sitting on that widow sill since before dawn just staring at nothing, hasn't eaten, drank any water or left to go to the litter box. She was very hot when we pulled her from the window sill." "We're very concerned," the female guardian broke in. "She's never behaved like this before…"

Humiliated, Necco crouched down upon her paws while the doctor gently ran his hands over her soft, pale fur, massaged her neck. Her fur was still warm from the heat of the window, despite the air-conditioned apartment and the ten-minute ride to the clinic. Before she could protest, a hard, cold instrument had been jammed into her bottom. She let her guardians know, in no uncertain terms that a probe was not necessary. Next a poke with another sharp instrument was thrust into her front leg, while her human guardians held her fast to the table. "Oh, for crying out loud!" Necco screamed again in protest over the unnecessary treatment. "I'm not sick…I'm not sick…there's nothing wrong with me!"

Oblivious to the message in Necco's cries, the veterinarian withdrew some blood from her leg, told her guardians she had no temperature and that she was probably just stressed out about something. She was a little dehydrated and if they could not get her to drink any water in the next hour or so, then they were to bring her back and they'd keep her overnight on a glucose IV. A bowl of water was immediately placed in front of her nose, and with some encouraging strokes down her back, she quickly lapped up enough water to make everyone in the room happy.

"That was the most humiliating experience ever!" she told Markus later that night, after the evening breezes had cooled the hot, humid air and the windows were once again open. "I had to spend the entire evening in the living room, stretched out across my female's lap. She thought I would like to be stroked with a damp washcloth. A bowl of water was shoved under my nose every ten minutes and I had to lap up a few drops each time just to keep my humans happy. I had to do it…I was so afraid they were going to rush me back to that icy-cold table again. Oh, how I hate that place!" Necco let go a tiny sneeze, "I think they've given me a chill."

Markus couldn’t contain his laughter. The image his little friend had given him would keep him amused for at least a week. "So, did you get to see her at all? The new cat, I mean. You had to go right passed her apartment on the way out of the parking lot. Was she sitting in the window?"

Necco let out a sigh, "No…I was too busy being humiliated…rushed to the clinic like that. I did have the perfect chance, didn't I?" Necco stamped her feet in her little frustrated fashion and whacked her tail against the glass. "Did you happened to see her today? You're much higher up than I am, surely you had a good view of her window."

"Necco, you know I can't see her window any better than you. You forget that your tree covers my window completely." Just then a familiar croak came from the window next to Necco, "I was looking over her way a few times today, Necco," the crackled voice commented. "All I could see was the tip end of a white tail thrashing about. Thorny was over there under the bush most of the morning, we'll just have to wait until midnight for him to come by. I think he likes her." Frog laughed, emitting a hoarse cough like sound. "Couldn't help but overhear your vet experience today, Necco. You should be more careful with your jealousy."

Necco spat back. "I'm not jealous! I'm just curious. Besides," she mewed softly, "Thorny is just being a good neighbor and he did promise to bring us information about her."

Markus and Frog both chuckled. "Hey Frog," Markus asked, changing the subject. "Have you heard anything about the old man upstairs, lately? How is he doing…and that dog?"

Frog hesitated to tell Necco and Markus what he had overheard from his guardians this morning at breakfast. From the little bit of human language he had interpreted, "the old man, having multiple bruises and a couple of cracked ribs, will be going into a nursing home for good. The little dog, having suffered no more than a cut on his snout, was taken to a foster home; he'll be adopted out. Hopefully. So it shouldn't be too long and we'll all have new neighbors again."

"I hope we don't get another dog up there," Markus sighed. "I could always hear that little rat of a dog whining and yapping through the common wall. It got very irritating at times. It's nice and quiet lately." Frog agreed.

Right then Thorny was spotted strutting across the parking lot from the direction of apartment sixteen. "Hey guys, he called out. How's things been for ya today?"

Of course Markus and Frog had to reveal Necco's obsession to catch a glimpse of the new cat, and how it nearly earned her a comfy, medicinal, overnight compartment at the clinic. Thorny, would have rolled over laughing but one look from Necco's squinted eyes, told him he'd better just get on with the news. "Sorry, you had such a bad day, Necco," he offered solemnly, "but I have good news about Princess Pricilla Prudence."

"Princess what?" Necco couldn't believe she had spent all those hours on that crummy, hot windowsill just to hear that the new, fluffy white cat in sixteen had a name that started with princess.

"Princess Pricilla," Thorny repeated. "She likes to be called Sissy…she's really sweet. She has a very soft voice," Thorny seemed to blush.

"So tell us more," Markus prodded, "What's her story? Nice and sweet with beautiful eyes and a soft voice doesn't tell us a whole lot."

As Thorny talked, Necco shifted on her windowsill several times, whacking her tail against the glass in frustration over the news that the new cat was a prima-donna, a princess no less, with papers and awards. A show cat. A cat that got bathed almost daily, and combed out. A cat that wore colored ribbons on the top of her head, had a real diamond collar, and ate expensive food off of genuine crystal and china. A cat that she was sure was not going to fit in at the lowly, Rainbow Estates Senior Village. A cat that very nearly caused her to have heat stroke.

Thorny didn't stay long, he had rounds to make. He'd be back again tomorrow maybe, after he had visited the new Princess Pricilla Prudence. "Humph!" Necco sneered, sounding a bit jealous even to herself, "Princess Prissy Prudy's…more like it."

Cats on Tuesday: Neighborhood Nightlife: A New Gal In The Village

While you are sleeping, snug and comfy in your beds, dreams floating round in your head, do you know what your cat is doing at that wee hour, when moon has risen high, wind has stilled, leaving the air thickly perfumed with night flowers?

The giant moth hit the window screen, startling Necco from her dozing on the back of the sofa, at the close of twilight. The sofa was in it's summer position under the open, living room window; the moth's sudden appearance caused the pale tortoise shell cat to sink all four sets of her claws into the cotton throw, raising the hair along her spine from the back of her neck to the tip of her tail. In an attempt to get at the lamp's light inside the room, the moth fluttered against the screen again, but this time Necco was alert and pounced upon the screen, nearly knocking it from its framing. Last summer Necco had popped a screen from the bedroom during the day and scared the living daylights out of her guardian, and herself. It wasn't a long way to the ground; living on the ground floor, so flying out the window wouldn't have caused her any harm, unless you think about her dignity, and the fact that suddenly being outside in a world she'd only viewed through the window screens, would really be a terrifying thing for a cat such as herself.

Her guardians immediately secured all the window screens after that, perchance Necco should again, accidentally hit the screen too hard while after a bug, or in one of her wound up, fast-as-a-race-car, window-to-window midnight sorties. Spazzing out her male guardian called it. Racing from the front room windows to the back room windows, often with only one bounce onto and off of the bed, hitting the bedroom windowsill with perfect precision. Well, that's what cats do best, Necco had protested, after her guardian had once scolded her about it in the middle of the night. It’s a form of exercise that keeps my muscles toned, my claws sharp, and my senses honed, she'd complained to him. Like any human could understand her feline language. She couldn't exactly understand the human form of speech either, but she was a very bright cat and could figure things out pretty fast. She'd been in a human environment since she'd left her mother's side at five weeks old. More than three years now. So she's had a lot of practice at learning what humans had to say.

The moth rattled its wings against the screen again, bringing a sudden, swift, paw strike so hard that it was knocked from the screen onto the lawn below. The longest of the summer days had come and gone, almost a month ago now; hastening the darkness at an earlier hour; hastening the retirement for the night for her elder guardians. Soon they'd be asleep and snoring in rhythmic sighs and snorts. Soon the moon would be high and it would be time for Thorny to bring her, and all the other apartment cats in building four of the Rainbow Estates Senior Village, the latest gossip and happenings—the news.

Because it had been quite stormy out for the past three nights and the windows had to be closed to keep the rain out, Thorny hadn't come to visit. Necco wandered from window to window anyway, but he never showed. The rains had ceased around noon today and even though the breeze was still a bit cool for older folks, Necco's guardians had left all their windows open. They said it was ideal sleeping weather.

A lot had been going on in the little Village since Thorny's last visit, two apartments had been vacated, re-cleaned and received two new sets of tenants. Just before the rains came, Necco was sure she saw a cat carrier being unloaded from the moving truck. She was anxious to know about the new cat in the Village.

The night deepened, her guardian's soft snoring sounds filled her ears as she swiveled them this way and that, tuning out the mundane apartment sounds so that she could hear her friend approaching. The breeze had stilled, the harmonized voices of the crickets and frogs living in the ditches at the properties edge, echoed in the quiet air.

Necco heard the familiar thalump of thickly padded paws landing on the windowsill above her. Markus had awakened from his nap. He slept on the pillow next to his elder guardian's, head. Mo, short for Molina, a tall thin, silver headed lady that had been widowed for nearly thirty years, and only recently, in the past six months, moved into the Village. Necco figured by the way she went and up and down those wicked stairs that she was probably the most agile human in all of the four buildings in the complex. "Markus?" Necco pressed her face and whiskers against the screen, and whispered into the still night. "It's about time you got up. Thorny should be here any minute."

Markus yawned, stretched, then settled his butt on the hard surface of the windowsill before he spoke to Necco. "Yeah, I reckon he's got a lot to tell us tonight." Now, two pairs of ears studied the sounds of the night. The familiar croak of Frog, the orange tabby with the damaged vocal cords, shattered the stillness. "Hey over there, Markus? Necco?" he called. "Sure is good to have these window open again. Thought that dab burned rain would never quit. I guess Thorny's comin' tonight?"

Before Necco or Markus could answer, all three sighted the charcoal and black striped tom marching across the lighted parking lot. He jumped onto the hood of Necco's guardian's car and greeted all three. After a few niceties about the rain and how he'd stayed indoors the past three stormy nights—he was no fool. He had a whole neighborhood of warm, toasty homes to choose from. A gift he'd said. He was so charming and irresistible that all the neighbors vied for his attention. So to please them all, he spent equal amounts of time in each home, enjoying every last morsel of their finest cat dishes.

Necco couldn't stand it. Things had been too quiet in their little senior village since the ambulance took away the little dog, known only as the dog to all the cats in building four, and his guardian, at daybreak, over a week ago. Thorny had learned from Kitty Kat in number eight, that the squeaky little excuse of a dog that lived above Frog, in number six, had somehow gotten tangled up in his leash as he and the old gentlemen that owned him went out to pee. The little rat dog ended up tripping the old man and they tumbled down the stairs, waking everybody in building four, and building one, as four paramedic units, sirens whaling, pulled into the parking lot at four-thirty in the morning. How many pacemakers where jostled by all that excitement would have been interesting to find out. That alone had given the apartment cats in building four enough to talk about for days.

But Necco knew all of that, what she really wanted to know was who moved into the first unit in building one, number sixteen, where Nanny had lived. She knew she'd seen a cat carrier and wanted Thorny to go over there and find out if there was indeed a new cat in the village and all about it.

Thorny had been way ahead of her. He'd trotted over to the new tenants apartment shortly after they moved in, before the rains had started, and sat under the nearest shrub by the window. He saw the gal for himself. "You'd be pleased to know, Necco, that I've already introduce myself to her, and, of course, I told her all about the rest of you. She's a pretty little thing, if I do say so myself. She has a poofy little face and dreamy golden eyes," Thorny stopped, glanced over to the bedroom room window where she would be sitting by now, but because of the tree in front of her apartment, Thorny doubted she could see Necco, or any of the others. He scratched at a pesky itch behind his left ear with his hind paw.

"Well?" Necco egged, "What does she look like, besides her dreamy yellow eyes? What color is her fur and what is her breed? How old is she…I can't stand it, tell us all about her."

Thorny took another moment to wash the paw he'd just scratched his ear with, can't be too careful, you know. Necco stood up, hunched her back and spat, getting Thorny's attention again. "You don't have to go get in a huff, Necco. I'm getting to that part. She's got long white hair and a long poofy white tail. I think she said she's a Persian, or some such thing. She sure is sweet though. You'd all like her."

Thorny yawned, bored with the night and wanting to find a warm bed to sleep in before the day dawned, and before it got too hot. He had such a hard time sometimes, choosing the right house to nap in. They were all so cool and comfy. Life is so hard for a stray that is as charming as he is. "I'll tell you more tomorrow night," he said, turning to leave before Necco could stamp her feet and whack her tale against the widow pane, the way she had a habit of doing when things didn't go her way. "At least tell me her name…" Necco called after him. "Oh," he called back over his shoulder, "forgot to get that bit of information. Tomorrow night, perhaps," then he was gone.

Necco was frustrated and disappointed. Apartment life has its limits. She'd have to depend upon Thorny, a lovable and sassy stray, to bring more news tomorrow night. She said goodnight, to Frog and Markus, friends that she'd never seen the faces of; hearing only their voices echoing in the night.

This is a work of fiction based on real episodes in the life of an apartment cat. Any coincidence to any real human, place or animal is only in the imagination of the author. DBB

Cats on Tuesdays: Neighborhood Nightlife

While you're sleeping, snug and comfy in your beds, dreams floating round in your head, do you know what your cat is doing at that wee hour, when moon has risen high, wind has stilled, leaving the air thickly perfumed with night flowers?

Apartment life is daunting at best. Small, cramped corners of life often limited to only one or two indoor cats per unit. This tale is about Necco and her feline neighbors. There are eight apartment units in Necco's building, seven occupied by cats, and one with a dog. Small, rat-like dog, but a dog none the less. No one ever spoke directly to the dog, only about it.

Necco, a pretty pale tortie with sparkling green eyes, spent many lonely nights during the winter, sitting on one windowsill or another, staring out into the starry, cold, darkness. All throughout the silent winter, Necco savored every thought, stored every idea, so that as soon as the warm summer nights came, and the windows were left open, she could have something to talk about with her neighbors.

Summer came late this year; one cold snap after another kept the nighttime windows closed all through June. Frustrated she paced, flew to each window in haste at every shadowy movement on the apartment grounds. Finally, finally, the weather mellowed out and the windows were left open. Necco sat on the wide bedroom windowsill, eagerly taking in great gulps air: scents of sweet, damp, earth, mingled with other scents floating in on the midnight air. Her guardians were asleep in their beds, their breaths slow and even, the soft whirl of the refrigerator could be heard in the kitchen, the low, slow, click, click, click, as the seconds ticked by on the living room wall clock. Her ears twitched quickly in every direction identifying each tiny sound.

"Necco, are you there?" a whisper floated down from the apartment above, barely audible above her own beating heart. Necco twitched her tail, perked her ears and leaned into the screen, hoping it would hold her weight. Markus, a black and white, lived above her. He too had waited seemingly endless nights for the windows to be left open to the outside air. "It's me, Markus," he called in a low whisper. His guardian was a woman who lived alone and rarely left her windows open all night. "Has Thorny come by yet?"

Thorny was a large, charcoal gray and thick black striped, roaming tom that lived somewhere out there in the darkness. There was no single home he permanently called his own. He was a roamer, a charmer, too, there were many homes in the neighborhood with willing humans that claimed him, fed him, caressed him, and talked to him as if he were human, too. Thorny knew everyone and everything in the neighborhood, and he was the apartment cat's only source of news.

Another voice whispered into the warm, fragrant air, "Necco? Markus?" it croaked. Frog was duly named because he had once been strangled on the Venetian blinds cord when he was a little guy. The little orange tabby was only eight weeks old at the time. He'd been bouncing in and out of the windows with glee, pawing the dangling cord until his hind legs slipped out from underneath him, he floundered in midair by the neck, gargling and gasping for breath. His guardian had heard him choking and rushed into the room, untangling him just in the nick of time. Life number one was nearly over by the time she revived him. No one remembered what his real name was. Just Frog is all anyone new him by. His vocal cords had been damaged and he would forever croak instead of mew.

"Frog!" Necco and Markus greeted him in unison. "Have you seen Thorny, yet?"
Frog pushed his head into the screen, sidling into it to get the maximum view of the parking lot. "Nope, not yet, I'll go look out the living room window."
"Let's all go to the other side," Necco suggested, "we can talk better in there, less chance of waking our guardians."

Each cat silently dropped from the bedroom window, sped down the hall and leaped stealthily into the front room windows. Thorny had just come into view, the full moonlight shimmering off his shiny, stripped coat, prancing heavily through the dew covered grass.

More heads pressed against window screens as he came within talking distance. Fluffy Girl, a pleasant Himalayan lived upstairs across the hall from the dog, which lived above Frog. Downstairs under Fluffy Girl was Kattie Kat, a broad tailed tan and cream Maine coon with deeply lined blue eyes. Prissy, a tiny, orange powder puff, of unknown origin lived across the hall from Markus, and above TBC (Troublesome Black Cat). An elderly widowed man was his guardian.

All of the humans living there were fifty-five an older; the apartment complex purported to be a Senior Village. Necco was the only one who still had two guardians; all the others in the village were single.

By the time Thorny reached the main patio and comforted himself under the golden glow of the round patio light, seven dark figures were perched upon window sills, ears trained towards the tom, waiting for the news. Stories flew from the windows to Thorny, from Thorny to windows. Necco and her friends lived in building four. Building three, set at an odd angle to building four, gained some new tenants over the winter months. Necco had seen a catly shadow in a window or two on occasion. Now Thorny was telling the cats in building four about the cats in building three, building two, and even building one. Nanny, an old momma cat in building one, had to go to the vet; she had a cough and never came back. The human, Mrs. Wassel, in building two, had fallen and broken her leg. Her children were moving her into an assisted living home and she would not be able to keep her cat, Freckles. In building three, Mrs. Korn's husband died and the management was forcing her to move into a single, one bedroom unit. Something about a couple needing her handicapped apartment was the reason. The news of that move had all the humans in a stir. Would anyone else who lived alone, and in a two-bedroom unit, be safe? It was a puzzle because every apartment in building three and four were two bedrooms and Necco's apartment was the only one now occupied by a couple. A new manager had come in during the winter and made so many new rules and changes that some of the older tenants had gotten sick over the shakeup and had to go to the hospital. Necco reflected about how disturbed her guardians had been by some of the things going on in the Village over the winter. But just last month, the new manager was fired. The newer, new manager, however, wasn't all that much better. There was still no rhyme or reason for the constant turmoil management kept the elderly tenants in.

Soon the moon had begun to set, the stars were fading in the dark-turquoise sky; Thorny had rounds to make, territory to claim and protect. "Too bad," he shook his massive shoulders and licked the fur on his spine back into place, "about Freckles, I mean. Nice old tom, doesn't have too much longer to live, himself. He's got to be near ninety-two by now (nearly 19 in human years). To have to find new guardians in his late years…" Thorny scratched a flea behind his left ear and shook his head, "just too bad…he'll probably end up getting…the you know what," he pressed his lips together and tried to talk out of the side of his mouth in a way that young Prissy couldn't hear him, "get the needle…" Six of the cats shuddered; they knew what the needle meant. They'd all visited the vet and heard the stories. Prissy was clueless.

Thorny bid them all a goodnight, or good morning if you chose to look at the hour. The cats sat in their windowsills for a few more moments, trying to talk to each other without seeing each other. Not one of them had ever seen what the other looked like. Only what they sounded like, or sometimes when the breeze was just right, what their scents said about them. Things were changing in their little neighborhood.

Now that the windows were open at night, Necco looked forward to Thorny's, and maybe one or two of his friends, visits around three o'clock in the wee hours of the morning and give them tidbits of neighborhood life.

The names and places have been changed to protect the felines and their guardians. What is your cat doing at three AM…do you know?