I created this blog to keep the people I love up to date on my life. I will try to update it weekly! If that doesn't happen remember that I am busy and will do the best I can!

Friday, August 24, 2012

Chatté


Chatté (pronounced shuh-tae)
A very loving cat with few true loyalties. Not quick to trust and easily offended there were only ever three people she ever really loved.
One was the man who for 17 years filled her food bowl, cleaned her litter box and was always good for a good scratch behind the ears, but no more than that.
One was her friend, Lauri, who never kicked her off the bed, or complained when great tufts of hair would stick to everything. Who bought her toys and loved her dearly. A person Chatté trusted so completely she would often go upside down, swing her around or hug her tightly to her chest, always resulting in deep purring. Many years ago when we made Christmas stockings for everyone, Lauri insisted on making one for Chatté as well.
When Lauri moved out to go to college Chatté hid outside and didn't let a living soul see her for weeks, upset that her person had left her behind. We all assumed she had ran away for good, but after bribes of canned soft food and catnip filled toys she came into the house, but mistrusted everyone. When Lauri came home for summer breaks a few times over the years Chatté would show how mad she was at Lauri by sitting just out of reach, and glaring. And let me tell you, that cat could glare. But she loved Lauri too much to stay mad forever, by the end of Lauri's stay Chatté would always be sitting in her lap, snoring happily.
When, last year, Lauri moved back home for a time, this time with new husband Chatté was not pleased. She peed in the shoes of the one who would steal her person. Sensing somehow that Lauri's loyalties had shifted from her to this strange new man.

The third person Chatté ever truly loved was me. Sister of her person, she had known me since I was a small child, and she a playful young kitten. In the beginning we were afraid of each other, neither knowing how to play with the other. For as long as Lauri lived in the house, she had no time for other humans. Though she wouldn't run away from me as she did my mother (who is self proclaimed not to really be a cat person) but Chatté never asked me for attention, never sought out my company. Not until after Lauri left.
With her person gone Chatté became lonely and though a misanthrope she still craved attention. Soon we became friends, and then more. She would sleep on my bed, shed on my clothes and I even was able to hold her upside-down. We were never as close as Lauri and Chatté, I had another cat, Mandy to share my love and no one can replace your first love. Chatté had such personality, as such cannot be put into words, she was always playful and had a permanent look of judgement on her face. A look of judgement which very few knew was also a look of love. A long haired cat with a slightly flat face she always maintained a kitten like countenance.  Chatté's most recognizable feature was her peculiar meow. Loud and long with lots of vibrato, those who heard it for the first time were unsure of where it came from. Both Lauri and I were quite adept at mimicking the sound and would hold long conversations with Chatté, meowing back and forth.
It could not be said that Chatté was a brave cat, her list of fears included balloons, vacuums, people, dogs, loud noises, sudden moments and on at least one occasion, a squirrel. But Chatté was a good cat, one my sister and I will remember for the rest of our lives. The animal that both of us has known the longest.
Chatt's "judgment face" as I called it
Lauri moved away for good a few months back, and I also moved out of the house. With a dog, two other cats and no one really to love, and the arthritis, matted fur and lack of agility that being an old cat can bring I tell myself that Chatté is better off. I was fearing having to put her down rather than letting her suffer into senility.
Earlier this evening Chatté was struck and killed by a car. When I was younger my dad told me that when pets left us, they went to pet heaven.  I always imagined it to be a glorious place full of fields of mice, warm fireplaces, and groves of cat nip.  On nice spring day, just before sun down. A field full of butterflies to chase and lots of places among the weeds to hide. Long beams of sunlight shining down, ready to be bathed in by our furry companions.