By Linda Elissalde
I DO NOT LIKE cats nor kittens. I do not like movies with, or about, cats. Cat cartoons are a little more acceptable, especially when the mice win. I am crazy about Broadway musicals, but I did not like anything about CATS. (Well, maybe the song, “Memories”). My mother always stated that cats carried ringworms. Some brothers I knew had ringworms on their heads. All of their hair was shaved. They had to wear knitted caps in the summer. YUK!

Cats are instinctually aware when you don’t like them. They will single you out, come sit on your lap, rub on your legs. I have never known a cat who would suffer with you when you were sick or be glad when you were happy. Dogs are a different breed. Canines sympathize with every ailment and sorrow. They bask in your joys. Dogs Rule!

Then, along came Steve! Our granddaughter Rachel and boyfriend Brent were heading to our beach. Rachel texted while they were on their way. Stella, her Cavalier Spaniel mix, was with them. Our Labradoodle Emma adores company. Humans and dogs are always welcome. Then Rachel declared, “Oh, Grandma, Steve the cat will come along with us. I hope that is OK.” Since about anything Rachel wants is OK with Marcel and me, we answered, “Fine.”

Brent is earning a PHD in Chemistry at Old Miss. Steve showed up at Brent’s door. Then Steve moved in with Brent. Rachel is in the Navy and worked toward her medical degree at Alabama College of Osteopathic Medicine. She is soon to begin her hospital rotations at Marshall Medical Center South in Boaz, Alabama. When Brent brought Steve for a visit, Stella let Steve know she was Queen. Steve complied. On the other hand, Steve the cat and visiting Shih Tzu Airy cuddled up to sleep together.

Rachel, Brent, Stella and Steve arrived in Crystal Beach. Emma and Stella chased around the yard for awhile. Then Steve was let out of his carrier. It was hard not to say, “The cat’s out of the bag.” We held our collective breaths. Emma saw Steve. Steve acknowledged Emma. Emma sniffed. Steve waved a paw. Steve WAS kinda cute—for a cat.

The next thing we know, Emma and Steve are playing with each other. Queen Stella did not approve. However, Emma and Steve continue their games. Steve climbed our pole dracaena, clambered on top of tables, leaped up on shelves. Emma watched in admiration from the floor. Steve did his own thing. He did not jump in my lap or rub on my legs. YEA! Marcel and I heard strange thumping sounds that night. It seems Steve liked moving around under our bed. Steve and Emma continued to enjoy each other’s company. Then we realized that Steve was gone. Rachel and Brent were not too worried, but I was. What if Steve had gone outside and run away? What if he were lost? What if he were injured and lying in a ditch. Most of all, what was I doing worrying about a cat? Eventually a yawning and stretching Steve came out from our room. He must have found a really fine sleeping spot unbeknownst to us. Sigh of relief. We bid all a sad farewell that evening. Waving from her car window, Rachel shouted, “Grandma, I think you might like cats.” My reply, “I like Steve.” And, I had to admit. I was just a tiny bit glad that Steve came along!

[July-20-2020]