My Mom was not a typical "crazy cat lady". I don't think she ever had more than one cat at a time. I don't think she ever went looking for cats either. It just seemed that pitiful cats gravitated to her, sensing that she was too kindhearted to turn them away. Mainly sick, hungry flea bitten strays found their way to Mom's door. I remember her washing out gross oozy gunk from the eyes of a kitty. She once pulled over on the expressway because she saw a cat peeking out of a cardboard box on the side of the road. It seems they disappeared just as quickly as they showed up. Feral Cats most likely, who after a good meal and a bath chose to hit the road again. I hated those cats. In our apartment they hid under the dining room table jumping out to bite me in the feet as I passed. I fell asleep some nights tightly holding my covers down as it seemed they chose me to climb under my blankets and sleep with. Why Me? Mom thought maybe because they were independent spirits and did not like the younger kids pulling, petting and carrying them around. So they came to me? She must have got confused with the number of cats because she named almost all of them Susie. Susie #1, Susie #2, Susie #3 and so on.
My Dad had spent a little time on a farm and had a very different feeling about pets. He felt they did not belong in the house, period. I'm sure he was the one responsible for occasionally "accidentally" opening the screen door and "accidentally" letting one of the Susies out. I remember Mom once convinced my Dad to go the vet with one of the Susies. He just sat with this confused and disgusted look on his face viewing all these folks with their assortment of animals that they stroked and cooed to. The receptionist came out and called "Susie Kallman, Susie Kallman, you're next". My Dad flipped out,. "This animal is NOT my child do NOT call her Susie Kallman."
My Dad had spent a little time on a farm and had a very different feeling about pets. He felt they did not belong in the house, period. I'm sure he was the one responsible for occasionally "accidentally" opening the screen door and "accidentally" letting one of the Susies out. I remember Mom once convinced my Dad to go the vet with one of the Susies. He just sat with this confused and disgusted look on his face viewing all these folks with their assortment of animals that they stroked and cooed to. The receptionist came out and called "Susie Kallman, Susie Kallman, you're next". My Dad flipped out,. "This animal is NOT my child do NOT call her Susie Kallman."
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| Mom with one of her Susies |
Only one cat lasted more than a short while. Perhaps Mom broke the losing streak by giving it a name other than Susie. She named him Tico, which was the name of one of our aunts boyfriends. Why? we will never know. I just know that my little brother, then about 4 or 5 adored that fat cat and carried him around the house constantly. Tico didn't seem to mind.
I have never owned a cat (and never will) but both of my sisters are cat people. In fact I am allergic to most cats.......very allergic. I guess it worked to my favor that I never liked them, so refused to handle them and none stayed long enough to start me sniffling. But thinking of all those Susie's now and again does remind me of what a dear kind-hearted mother I once had.
