Bedlam and Bullying

Snow was falling swiftly, causing the windows to feel chilly against my luxurious, perfectly-groomed thick fur. My puffy brown window cushion no longer felt cozy. Darn those cold windows.

My throne, the window seat overlooking the breakfast room, held a keen vantage point from which to view my sprawling backyard. The strategic location of my lofty perch (in the center of the first floor of my home) allowed me to monitor and control the flow of the household.

Too chilly-Time to stretch, move and search for another warm location. There is no opportunity to take a sun bath today. The uncertain sky and snowstorm made sure of that.

I bolt down from my window seat, prance in a slow circle, swagger over to the living room, and jump up to the end of the sofa where I find my fuzzy navy blanket. Time to take another nap, my fifth one of the day. I tuck my head under my arm, (just in case the sun tries to make an appearance), and begin to dream. I am chasing grey bushy-tailed squirrels through the tall grass.

All of the sudden, there is a bang. I spring up and hear both the boy, Phillip, and Dad racing through the door.

Phillip is a bright boy, probably 16 years old, in people years. He has a mischievous grin, and deep brown eyes than stand out against his pale, freckled skin and strawberry blonde hair. He looks like a giant to me...but the people say he is in a growth spurt. Phillip and I have been together for eight years. He is my human and does whatever I ask of him.

Dad accompanies Phillip. He is taller than Phillip and is truly a giant. I have no idea how old he is in people years, but he seems ancient as compared to Phillip. Dad is very kind to me. I would classify him as my second favorite human. He does what I want, sometimes.

Mom, “my feeder”, is in the kitchen cooking. She is responsible for making sure my kibbles come at routine intervals. The clanging noise she is making stops as she greets the boys. Her perky welcome interrupts my nap. My feeder seems so excited and happy.

“Midnight, come here kitty, “says Phillip. “We have someone for you to meet. “

Someone or something I wonder? I tiptoe closer to investigate the situation. The smell is repulsive. The combination of laundry soap and antiseptic solution found only at the V.E.T. permeates the house.

Argh, the V.E.T. I hate that smell. My back arches automatically and I dig my heels in.

Phillip picks me and carries me into the kitchen.

“It is OK, Middy, “he states.

Whenever he calls me Middy, my resolve melts a little.

“Go and meet him,” Phillip says, as he places me in the middle of the kitchen floor.

On the kitchen floor is a contraption, the people call it a carrier. It is a teal blue color with a black fence across the front. And inside the contraption is....

A small, fluffy, ebony and white kitten. Definitely a kitten, and it smells like a little boy kitten.

“A-OOOO, A-OOOO, A-OOOO,” he howls, until I come near.

His emerald green eyes stare right through me. The kitten backs up to the rear of the carrier and utters a little “hsssss”

I glare at him, my hazel eyes transforming to a vivid green. The kitten can tell that I am enraged and cowers in the back of the carrier. I am the King after all.

Kitten makes a sound again, “hsss.”

Kitten, what was that? Your scared noise? That’s right, you had better be scared. I rule this house. Who invited you anyhow? They did NOT clear your presence with me.

My short black and tan coat begins to stand up on end. Even my white hair feels coarse. I feel ready to attack.

I am perplexed...who brought this chaos into my kingdom? A kitten, really??

Mom speaks, “Midnight, we would like you to meet Kitten. We thought you could use a pet to play with.”

“Rrrow, Rrrow, Rrrow?, I moan.

A pet to play with? What do you mean? Really Mom, I am OK, and WHY DIDN’T YOU CLEAR THIS WITH ME FIRST?

She continues, “Kitten is going upstairs to Phillip’s room. We have constructed a cage with a litter box to contain him until he acclimates to the house.”

ACCLIMATES TO THE HOUSE? There must be some mistake. And Phillip’s room is my other room; he is my number one human after all.

Harrumph.... I turn around, giving Mom the cold shoulder, and indignantly stroll back to my sofa. I spring up and perch on my navy blanket, stick my nose in the air and contemplate my next move.

The kitten continues howling. A-OOOO, A-OOOO

Phillip, Mom, and Dad amble up the stairs, carrying the cat carrier with the invader.

I can’t stand it.... I need to know what is going on. I must follow and investigate. Crouching, I gingerly creep up the stairs and head to Phillip’s room.

Phillip opens the carrier in our bedroom. I sneak in, just before he closes the door, and hunker down under the bed to observe.

Out pops the tiny kitten. With his long hair, he looks bigger than he is; he is very fluffy. He can’t compete with my sleek and muscular frame though. I could squash him like a bug! Or a mouse! How about a squirrel? His tail resembles the grey bushy squirrel tail that I was dreaming about.

The kitten starts running around the room and Phillip picks him up.

He looks into the kitten’s emerald green eyes and states, “I think we will call you Oreo.”

​

Everyone agrees.

NOOOOOO, don’t name it... once you name it.... It becomes permanent.

Oreo jumps out of Phillip’s arms runs around the room...chasing a small ball with a bell. Thud... he crashes into the wall and falls over on his back.

HRMPH...what a doorfus!

Oreo seems to have no control of his body. I have a lot to teach him.

Mom, Dad, and Phillip decide to leave Oreo in Phillip’s room. They place him inside a large black wire crate. The rectangular crate stands about three feet tall, and seems to be about a foot wide, and twice as long as I am. Inside the crate there are: two dove grey dishes; one for food, the other for water, three small cat jingly ball toys, a fuzzy tan blanket, and a litter box.

As I watch Oreo from my under- the- bed vantage point, I hatch a clever idea. Intimidation could solve my problem. I do not want Oreo, the invader, in my house.

I also wonder- is the family trying to replace me with Oreo? I will NOT allow that to happen. I must remind the humans who rules here. This house is MY HOUSE!

Now that everyone is out of the room, I strut out from under the bed and face Oreo. I glare at him and state, “Listen kitten, you need to leave...immediately...things are complicated here and I don’t need you in the way.”

Oreo’s sparkling green eyes gaze at me quizzically and he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Let me explain Oreo. I control everything in this house, including the humans. Nothing happens here without my permission. “

I focus my gaze on Tears, the small grey plastic water dish. Immediately Tears strolls confidently toward Oreo, sloshing water as he moves across the crate. Oreo backs up into a corner.... Tears stops directly in front of him and sprays him. Oreo howls. He is soaking wet. Tears turns, smiles, and winks at me.

“That was fun,” Tears says.

My attention turns to the plastic food dish, Foodie. I nod at her. She scurries to the corner where Oreo is hiding, lining up next to Tears. She flings a load of food in front of him. Oreo’s white mittens are covered with brown sticky soft kitten food. I am proud of the dishes and smile at them.

Foodie is ecstatic. “We can get rid of the kitten, “she says. “I like pestering Oreo.”

Oreo seems bewildered. He asks, “What have I done to any of you? I don’t deserve this. The family brought me here. They seem nice. I am so confused.”

I remind Oreo that I am in charge. I decide if he stays or leaves. The dishes are my protectors.

Foodie declares,” Midnight, we don’t like change. We are comfortable with you, but don’t want a strange kitten using us. However, we will do whatever you direct us to do. “

Tears signals his agreement. More water sloshes on Oreo.

Oreo begins hissing at the dishes. “hsss”

Tears and Foodie laugh uproariously.

We all wonder-how can anyone take his hissing sound seriously?

My focus shifts to the jingly balls. Those balls are MY TOYS! I trained them. What are they doing in the crate? Now I am really getting angry.

Oreo jumps over the dishes, heading directly toward MY TOYS. Two of the three balls are blue, and one is green. They dart around the crate independently; their swift movements confuse Oreo. His head is moving rapidly from one side to the other. Oreo doesn’t know which way to turn. The balls are teasing him with their movements and tinkling sound. Obviously, they don’t respect Oreo. My plan seems to be working. We are frightening the intruder.

All of the sudden Oreo plops on the blanket, right in the center of the crate. He is completely exhausted and confused. He closes his eyes and makes a snoring sound.

Great, Oreo snores....

The humans are returning to Phillip’s room. The balls hear the approaching humans and stop moving. The dishes are at quietly at rest.

“He is so adorable, “says Mom. “But what a mess he has made of this crate. There is water and food all over him and the crate is a disaster area.”

I snicker...just wait Mom. If you keep him, just wait and see what messes he makes.

Phillip calls me. “Middy, come here, “he says.

I slowly stroll toward my boy.

He continues, “Middy, we love you very much. We want you to be happy and playful again. We noticed since you lost your brother Forte, you don’t play as much as you used to. You seem to lay around a lot. The V.E.T. thought you were depressed. Dr. Calvin thought a friend would cheer you up.”

The mention of Dr. Calvin causes me to meander away. Why do the humans listen to the V.E.T.? I head back under the bed when Phillip calls to me again.

“Come here Middy,” he says. “Let’s chat.”

I wander back over to Phillip with my head held high. He is my number one human after all.

I wish he hadn’t mentioned Forte. I miss my little brother. We did everything together. I loved playing with Forte. He helped me tame the jingly balls.

I had fun watching him take a bath in the sink. Forte loved getting wet.

He was so snuggly, too. Dad said we formed a round cat ball as we curled around each other. Forte was warm and comfy. His purr was so loud, it lulled me to sleep. He was the sweetest cat ever.

I don’t understand why Forte left me. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I got up to get a drink of water. Forte was sleeping on the sofa, all stretched out. When I came back, I couldn’t wake him. He never did wake up.

​

Dr. Calvin told the humans that neutered male Maine Coon cats often have heart attacks. I really didn’t understand what she was saying to us. I kept wondering, why did Forte, my beautiful brother, leave me? I still love and miss him very much.

My anger has turned to sadness. Thoughts of Forte make me catatonic.

Phillip scratches under my chin and I return to the present.

I have a decision to make. Phillip has said that Oreo, the invader, is not my replacement. The humans brought the kitten to be MY friend. So, now I have a choice; do I mentor Oreo and treat him as a friend? Or do I continue with the intimidation tactics?

Phillip gives me a nose kiss, rubs behind my ears and tells me, “I love you Middy. Trust me, everything will be OK.”

And with that statement I melt, roll over and allow Phillip to rub my belly.

He continues, “You need a friend and I think you will grow to love Oreo.”

Love Oreo? That is quite a stretch, Phillip. He is definitely not Forte. But, I maybe I can learn to TOLERATE him.

Will I be able to get Tears and Foodie to accept him? Will the jingly balls listen? I wonder if we can retrain the jingly balls together. They can be so recalcitrant sometimes.

Maybe, just maybe, I could use a friend. Or at least a student.

Oreo is young. I could teach him my ways. He will never become the ruler that I am. This is MY house after all.

While Phillip continues to rub my belly (by the way, belly rubs are the best), Tears and Foodie gesture towards me. Phillip is oblivious.

Oreo continues to snore.

“Midnight, we got your back,” Tears affirms.

“I guess something new might be good for us,” Foodie agrees.

“After all, you are the King. We obey your command. Do you want us to end the bedlam and bullying?” Foodie continues.

"I guess so. I think I need a student or a friend. We will work together to accept Oreo," I muse.

The jingly balls dance around the crate again. Good thing Phillip isn’t paying attention. He is busy rubbing my belly and giving me all the loves.

I suppose Oreo and I will retrain those pesky jingly balls together.

After my belly rub and once Oreo stops snoring. All in due time.